


How Lucky Am I

by kaehdci



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: Angst, Cute, Drama, F/M, Romance, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27757783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaehdci/pseuds/kaehdci
Summary: Being married to EXO leader Suho means always knowing that you are at the bottom of a list of priorities. It doesn't matter how much he loves you, the group will always come first. When he sends Minseok to pick up the pieces after standing you up on your birthday, you start to wonder if maybe you're with the wrong person.
Relationships: Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Original Female Character(s), Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Reader, Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Original Female Character(s), Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Reader, Kim Minseok | Xiumin/You
Comments: 3
Kudos: 20





	1. The Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of creative fiction

It all started - or rather, started to end - on [y/n]'s birthday. It was her second birthday since Junmyeon had been discharged from the military, her second since they had got married. He was all about big romantic gestures back then, when he still had time to do them. They had planned their wedding in the closing months of his service. When he was discharged, he was suddenly very busy and [y/n] had booked everything herself - the venue, the dress, the invites, the rings - so that when he called off the wedding before they could even formally announce it, he didn’t have a sense of what had even been planned. She couldn’t blame him. It hadn’t even been very elaborate, just a private ceremony in Jeju with their friends and family. Since nobody else knew about it, it was relatively easy to put it on hold when Junmyeon told her he couldn’t make the date they had picked. He wanted to marry her, though. He was adamant about that. They eloped that summer, Junmyeon insisting that they could always do a wedding after. So, they put off their wedding and took the marriage instead. She moved into his apartment. He introduced her to the other members. They welcomed her like family.  
"Was it what you wanted, a small ceremony?" Minseok had asked [y/n] a couple of months after the elopement, after Junmyeon finally deemed it safe to tell people he was married. She remembered that Minseok was the only one of them to ask her about the elopement, if she had been happy about it. He had been particularly solicitous of her back then, doing everything to make her feel comfortable when she frequently found herself out of her depth, outside the circle of boisterous members. She found out later that Minseok alone had known all about the planned wedding, and how Junmyeon had cancelled it.  
"Now that we have time to think about it, I think maybe we should have had people we know. Family." [y/n] said. "Maybe we can have a proper wedding soon, if we can risk it. I doubt it, though. This is fine for now."  
Minseok had looked a little sad for her. She couldn't work out then why that had rankled so. They became friends. By the time she started working for Chanyeol's studio a year later, though, she didn't see much of him. He was close with Junmyeon but a couple of months after she got married, he seemed to start finding excuses to avoid their apartment. Avoid her. She didn't think too much about it, until he showed up at the beach on her birthday to tell her Junmyeon wasn't coming.

Two hours earlier, Junmyeon thought he had got away with it. He thought he was almost free. Then-  
"Junmyeon."  
He shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to three. He had managed to make it to the elevators, out of the studio and down the corridor and all the way here without anyone stopping him. The elevator door slid open in front of him. He stared inside longingly for a moment then turned and smiled at the manager. It wasn't her fault.  
"I have to go," he said. She shook her head at him sadly, and beckoned him back along the corridor, towards the offices at the other end.  
Junmyeon fished in his pocket for his phone so he could call [y/n] and tell her he wasn't coming to meet her. He felt sick even thinking about it. It was the one thing she had asked of him on her birthday and once again he was disappointing her. He was always disappointing her these days. When he proposed, he had told her it wouldn’t be easy, that their relationship meant that he would always seem like he was putting the group ahead of her even when he really, really wasn’t… but at times like this he knew he had no choice. Even if he could say that he had to leave because it was his wife’s birthday, a crisis like what was going on with Sehun and that blog post wasn’t going to be possible. He couldn’t find his phone. Then he remembered that he had left his phone in the minivan that morning. The minivan was gone now, out to Gimpo to pick up Baekhyun, with his phone in the back seat. As he made his way back to the offices, he cast about desperately for a solution. He was about to ask the manager if he could borrow her phone when, passing the open door of the dance studio, he glanced inside and saw Minseok stretching in front of the mirror.  
"Give me a minute," he said to the manager, and didn't wait to hear her protest as he dashed inside. Minseok looked up when he heard him come in and gave him a broad smile which Junmyeon returned. It was hard not to; Minseok's smile lit up his whole face and it was impossible not to be a bit dazzled by it. He crouched down next to his friend.  
"There's a bit of a situation with Sehunnie," he said. "I thought it was going to blow over, but they need me to stay and help sort it out." Minseok looked worried and a little confused. Junmyeon then asked him what he really came in for. Even as he said the words, he felt how hollow they were. He told Minseok that he needed him to drive out to that little village, to pick up [y/n]. He knew he could just use Minseok's phone to call her, but he remembered that she had taken the bus up there and would need a ride home anyway. Minseok's face was unreadable but he wasn't smiling any more.  
"It's her birthday, Junmyeon," Minseok said quietly.  
"Yes," said Junmyeon."I know. I'm... I can't believe I have to work. Can you please go out there and get her?" It was only midday. Her birthday might still be saved. Minseok was standing up.  
"Of course," he said. "I'm not busy."  
"Thanks, hyung," Junmyeon said sincerely. He still felt shit, but at least [y/n] would see a friendly face and not have to take the bus back in by herself. Minseok only nodded and left. He looked angry. Junmyeon hoped that what he had asked hadn't caused Minseok to cancel plans. Afternoons off were rare these days.  
Reluctantly, he left the studio and re-joined the manager in the hallway.  
"Okay," he said. "Let's go."

He must have been sitting in that car park for ten minutes before he finally worked up the nerve to get out of the car. He had no idea what to say to her, to [y/n]. He shouldn't be here at all, it should be Junmyeon. He shouldn't be picking up Junmyeon's messes, even as Junmyeon was in Seoul right now picking up theirs. He had thought about what he was going to say to [y/n] all the way out here, and when he had finally worked it out in his head, when he was sure it was her sitting down on the dock in that blue dress, Minseok got out of the car. There was a fresh breeze coming off the sea, but summer was coming, so he left his coat.  
On the way down to the dock, he passed a cart setting coffee. As an afterthought, he bought an iced americano for himself and a caramel macchiato for [y/n]. She always drank those. At least then he wasn't showing up empty-handed. He had a gift for her, in his pocket, wrapped in tissue paper. He probably wouldn’t give it to her now. He had been planning to give it to her later, after Junmyeon had given her whatever it was he was going to give her that would be expensive and beautiful and probably not her taste. He bit his tongue even as he thought that; it wasn't his place, and it wasn't fair on Junmyeon. It wasn't his fault Minseok was in love with the wrong person.  
She turned around as he approached. She looked confused but she still smiled at him. She always smiled at him. It made him want to rip out his heart and throw it in the sea.  
"Hi," he said shyly, handing her the coffee and sitting down next to her on the dock.  
"He's not coming, is he." She sounded resigned, like she knew he wouldn’t be.  
"No," said Minseok. "There's a crisis. He was called into work."  
[y/n] sighed and Minseok hated Junmyeon at that moment. Hated what Junmyeon had and let slip constantly. Hated that he was the one here to see [y/n]'s disappointment, when all he ever wanted to do was make her smile. Mostly, he just hated himself, though. She was wearing perfume today. That was unusual. He shifted so that he wasn’t sitting as close to her. They drank their coffee in relative silence. and then Minseok drove [y/n] home.

Junmyeon didn’t even get back to the apartment until the middle of the night. [y/n] wasn’t asleep but she pretended that she was. She didn’t want to hear whatever perfectly reasonable excuse he had for not meeting her on her birthday, because there was nothing that he could have done about it then and nothing he could do about it now. At times like this, [y/n] felt acute loneliness, a disconnect from Junmyeon that wasn’t there when they were first together.  
He had been in the military then, and he had more time. He was more private, though he still covered his face whenever he went out. Their first meeting had been so ordinary, introduced by mutual friends at a bar. She hadn’t even recognised him as EXO leader Suho at first, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself looking at him anyway. He was disarmingly handsome, and his charm was magnetic. Yet, there was a kind of shy coyness about his manner that turned to cuteness when he was drunk and kindness when he was sober. She had liked him immediately, and when he asked her out after the third time they met, she said yes. She had assumed they were going to the cinema or the park or dinner, so when he picked her up on his day off and brought her out to that little village with the dock and bought her ice-cream, a nearly-four hour round trip in his car during which he asked her everything about herself, she realised he wasn’t casual about dating.  
It was a whirlwind, those first few months. He kissed her on their second date, after taking her on a slow hike up a hill with a nice view in the middle of nowhere. Within a year they were engaged. She knew it was too fast, but she had been so in love with him… had been.  
[y/n] squeezed her eyes shut when she thought that. Wasn’t she still in love with him? Weren’t they still planning to have a wedding, to announce their marriage properly? This year, or next year, or whenever he had the time?  
Junmyeon climbed into bed behind her and lay in the dark for a few minutes. Then he moved and wrapped his arms around her, moulding his body to hers. She had to move to let him do this, so he knew she was awake. He was warm against her back. He kissed her shoulder.  
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. It came out ragged; he was crying. Tears stung her eyes too. She turned in his arms and let him hold her to him, burying her face in his shirt. He was still dressed. She was probably ruining the fabric, but he didn’t seem to care. He just kept telling her he was sorry and smoothing her hair and kissing her and at some point, she started to wonder what he was apologising for – for standing her up, or for everything else? This had been coming for so long, a full-stop on their relationship that was drawing ever closer, but neither of them had admitted it yet. It was awful, a desperate game of chicken. She still loved him, but it wasn’t the same.  
Eventually she stopped crying and he rolled her onto her back and kissed her, deepening the kiss when she put her arms around him. She unbuttoned his shirt, and he loosened his own belt. For a while she let herself get lost in being with him. She was starting to realise that it might be only a matter of time before she wouldn’t be, anymore.


	2. Just a Gift

It was probably three months after her birthday that [y/n] realised that what she felt for Minseok was more than friendship. From the start, he had always been her favourite of Junmyeon's friends. She worked for Chanyeol and they had become close, but he was always a bit too goofy, a little much for her. She worked late nights with him, slept over at the studio sometimes, but there was never a hint of anything untoward in it. Chanyeol was like a brother, a giant, annoying, adorable brother.  
It was different with Minseok. From the day she met him she felt like she always had his attention. He was quietly funny in his own way that never failed to make [y/n] laugh, and he seemed to find her hilarious. An easy camaraderie grew into a friendship early on. They sought each other out at parties, sat next to each other at dinners, and he started sending her links to things or pictures he thought she might like almost as soon as she gave him her Kakaotalk ID. Then, suddenly, it stopped. He didn’t send her any more links. He stopped bringing her books he thought she would like or coffees when he had to visit Chanyeol’s studio. He stopped sitting next to her at dinners and parties until it was almost awkward to be around him. Once, she met Junmyeon at a bar where he was drinking with Jongin and Minseok. When Junmyeon got up to go to the bar and Jongin went outside for a smoke, she was left in a booth with Minseok. She nearly got up herself but thought her discomfort would be a bit too obvious then. She felt the distance between them almost a living thing. [y/n] had no idea what she said to keep the tension at bay, she just started talking, but she remembered that he didn't say anything. Then the disastrous birthday happened.  
After that, she was sure that she shouldn't be left alone with him again. About two months later, he stumbled in the door of her apartment early one morning with Junmyeon’s arm draped over his shoulder, supporting him. Junmyeon was half-awake, definitely drunk. Minseok told her he had to record later in the day and hadn't been drinking but that Junmyeon was in better condition than the others they left behind at the club.  
"Thanks for bringing him back," she said. "Do you want some coffee or something?" She didn't expect him to say yes. But he did, so she made him some coffee and they took it out on the balcony to drink it. It was getting hot in Seoul, even at night. They stood on the balcony and chatted quietly about his recording sessions and Junmyeon and her work at the studio. It was the most they had spoken in months, but [y/n] felt relaxed around him for the first time in a long time. She could sense that he was making an effort, and she was just glad to have their friendship reappear unexpectedly. He didn’t stay long, though. When he set down his cup on the table and said he had to leave, he stopped himself at the door. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small box wrapped in tissue paper and handed it to her.  
"I forgot to give you this, on your birthday," he said. He looked terrified. [y/n] was confused because Junmyeon had already given her a present. Unless this wasn't what he had given Minseok to give to her. Unless… it was from him. He didn't wait for her to unwrap it. He just took his jacket and left.  
Inside the box was a thin chain with a tiny silver pendant of a feather. It was beautiful. It was like something she would have bought for herself.

After he gave [y/n] the necklace, Minseok called Kyungsoo and asked him to come over. He picked up more coffee from the all-night café near his building and by the time he got back to his apartment, Kyungsoo had already let himself in and seemed to be cooking.  
“I don’t invite you around just to cook for me,” Minseok said, setting a coffee down on the work surface beside where Kyungsoo was chopping ingredients.  
“I know,” he said, “but I have a hangover coming on and your kitchen is bigger than mine. So I’m making us both some breakfast.” Minseok didn’t complain. He appreciated that Kyungsoo made himself at home in this apartment. It had taken months for him to settle back in here after his service ended, and having friends over made it feel more comfortable. Living with people all of his life hadn’t prepared him for how quiet it would be once he lived by himself.  
“Did you take Suho home?” Kyungsoo asked quietly.  
“I had to carry him home. He wanted to lie down at the bus stop outside the bar. Why does he drink so much lately?”  
Kyungsoo shrugged and didn’t answer. Minseok watched his friend work for a few minutes before he made up his mind. He had to talk to someone about this; it was tearing him up.  
“Kyungsoo-ah, I need to tell you something. It’s a secret. You can’t tell anyone, especially Junmyeon, okay?” Minseok held out his hand, pinky up. Kyungsoo regarded his hand for a second before nodding and hooking his own pinky finger around Minseok’s. Promise extracted, Minseok went on.  
“I have a problem. I’ve been… It’s nothing bad, I’ve not done anything or said anything, and I know this is going to sound awful. I can’t help how I feel. Look. I’m just going to come out and say it. Okay. Here it is. Ready? I think- no, I know- ah I don’t know how to say this. It’s not even, I mean it is bad but it’s not- look. This is it. I like [y/n]. And I don’t know what to do about it.”  
Kyungsoo stirred his soup and didn’t say anything. Minseok waited for about half a minute before he asked Kyungsoo if he had heard him.  
“I hear you,” said Kyungsoo. “I know.”  
Minseok was confused.  
“What do you know?”  
“I know you like [y/n]. I’ve known for a long time. Since we met her.” Kyungsoo took a sip from his coffee cup and didn’t look at Minseok. Minseok goggled at him.  
“How did you know?! Does- does Junmyeon know?! Who else knows? Does [y/n] know? Do you talk about this?”  
Kyungsoo gave him a sad smile that Minseok felt in his gut. It was a pity-smile.  
“No one else knows,” said Kyungsoo. “I didn’t tell anyone. I just noticed. I saw you with her and then I saw what you tried to do, to stop talking to her. I thought that was a good idea.”  
“Then… no one else knows?” Minseok was shocked. He didn’t realise he had been so obvious.  
“No one else knows, I don’t think. I think I just noticed because I don’t- I mean I don’t talk as much as the others and I know what you’re like. You’ve never been like that with a girl before. You looked at her like she was the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. She’s funny but you laugh at all of her jokes, even the bad ones.” Kyungsoo reached across and gave Minseok a light jab on the shoulder. “She’s the wrong girl, though. She’s taken. She’s with Junmyeon.” He turned serious again and went back to his cooking.  
Minseok covered his face with his hands.  
“I know that,” he said. “I know that. I can’t help it. It’s killing me. What can I do?” Minseok was asking this seriously. He needed advice. He needed help. He needed [y/n] and he couldn’t have her. He needed to not feel this way anymore.  
Kyungsoo just shrugged again, but he looked sympathetic.  
“Find someone else.”  
“There isn’t anyone else. I’ve never… there’s never been anyone else.”  
Kyungsoo shrugged again.  
“I don’t know, hyung. Get another cat.”


	3. An Occasional Party

The following January, Minseok put on one of the occasional parties he held for the EXO members and their partners at his apartment. It had become a kind of tradition when he came out of the military, a couple of times a year, an excuse to gather twice a year when their schedules were sometimes so different. [y/n] usually didn’t mind going, but she felt a bit uncomfortable about it this year. She told herself it was because she felt like she was intruding on them when they were all together, and she usually ended up having to work with Jongdae’s wife to entertain whoever Jongin brought along, usually a ridiculously beautiful girl-group member who wasn’t used to how EXO mercilessly ribbed each other in private. She didn’t like to admit that she was apprehensive ahout being in Minseok’s space. They hadn’t spoken in months, not properly since the day he had given her the necklace. The more time she spent around him, the more worried she was becoming about how she acted around him. She couldn’t admit it to anyone else, but she had finally admitted it to herself: being around Minseok made her want him. And being around Junmyeon was making it more and more obvious it was to her that their marriage was coming to an end. She didn’t want to think about that. So, she was going to use an excuse and get out of going to dinner.  
All day, she threw herself into work in the studio. She turned off her phone and dug through her to-do list, ticking off tasks she had long left undone, so that when Chanyeol came by at five to check on her and pick her up to go to Minseok’s, she was focused entirely on her computer screen and didn’t notice him come in.  
He nudged the back of her chair to get her attention and [y/n] jumped.  
“You scared me,” she said, and he grinned at her.  
“You were so focused on that screen,” he said, and did an impression of her, opening his big eyes even wider and leaning over her shoulder so he was inches from the monitor. [y/n] pushed him playfully.  
“I’m busy,” she said, and went to get back to work. Chanyeol sat on the desk facing her so she had to push her chair back.  
“You’re finished,” he said. “It’s time to go to Minseok’s.”  
[y/n] made a show of pretending she had just remembered the party.  
“Oh, no, Chanyeol I can’t go anywhere tonight. I’ve got so much to do. Junmyeon will be there, he can fill in for me.” [y/n] pushed gently at Chanyeol’s side to get him to move so she could pull her chair back under the desk. He stood up and walked behind the bar he had built in the corner and started making himself a drink. She heard him pour whisky into a glass and down it, then pour himself another.  
“I have to work. And I’m not dressed to go to a party,” she said, gesturing down at her clothes. She was wearing black jeans and a black hoodie. Hardly party wear, and she would definitely be under-dressed compared to whoever the others brought.  
Chanyeol wasn’t taking this excuse, though. He just scoffed. “I’m not going to change,” he said. She wished he would; that neon-green hoodie was an eyesore, and he’d been wearing that beanie for so long she was starting to worry he was losing his hair.  
“I have to work,” [y/n] said, not looking at him.   
“You don’t have to work tonight,” he said. “I’m your boss, I told you not to.”  
[y/n] just shrugged. “I think I do have to work, boss.” She spun out the title, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Chanyeol was the most un-bossy boss ever. She heard him pour himself another drink and then realised what he was doing. She spun around in her chair.  
“Wait, you’re not-”  
He slung back his third whisky.  
“I can’t drive,” he said, and threw his car keys at her. “You need to take me to Minseok’s.”

Junmyeon arrived late. He had been held up at work again and waited around for Sehun to finish some choreography thing, so by the time they showed up at Minseok’s, everyone else was already there. He found [y/n] on the couch, sipping from a can of Sprite and glaring at Chanyeol who was clearly already drunk.  
“Should I be jealous?” Junmyeon asked, dropping a soft kiss on the top of [y/n]’s head and settling next to her on the couch. “She normally only gives me looks like that.” Chanyeol grinned, but didn’t answer him, and stood up to hug Sehun. “Are you alright?” Junmyeon asked [y/n].  
“Fine,” she said, tension coming off her in waves. “I was just really busy this evening, I thought I was going to have to cancel. This idiot decided to get tanked up, so I had to drive him. I’m going to be behind now.” Chanyeol heard her and winked. Junmyeon was surprised he had managed to get her to come. [y/n] had been avoiding everyone lately, holing herself up in that studio until late at night. He barely saw her anymore, and when their sleep schedules did line up, sleep was all they ever did. He put his arm around her, but it felt awkward. Everything between them felt awkward lately.  
“Are you okay? You’re drinking Sprite,” Junmyeon said. [y/n] had been vocal in the past about her distaste for Sprite.  
“I don’t want to drink tonight,” she said.  
“There’s other drinks,” he said. “Have you checked the fridge?”  
[y/n] glanced around him towards the kitchen.  
“I might make some tea or something, when the kitchen is empty.”  
Junmyeon followed her gaze to the window into the kitchen. Minseok was in there, cleaning up around Kyungsoo while he cooked.  
“You could go in now, they won’t mind.”  
“It’s fine,” she said, and sipped from her Sprite, clearly not enjoying it since she made a face.  
“That’s silly,” said Junmyeon, and went into the kitchen himself to make her some tea.  
It was a smaller gathering than usual tonight. Jongin hadn’t brought a date for once, and Jongdae was away on a hard-won vacation. Sehun and Chaneyol were deep in conversation at the table already, and Jongin was having some sort of competition with Baekhyun on Minseok’s exercise bike. Everyone was here, but he felt uncomfortable.  
As he was carrying the cup of tea back into the living room, he realised what it was; for the first time since he had introduced her to them, he felt like he had to look after [y/n] in their company. She was usually more sociable, joking with the others or helping out in some way, but tonight she was just sitting quietly on the couch, avoiding everyone’s eyes. Should he sit with her? Did she even want him to? She didn’t seem to want to talk to anyone. He didn’t know what to do. He handed her the tea and looked around the room.  
“Go talk to the others,” she said quietly. “I’m not in a very good mood.”  
Junmyeon gave her a long, measuring look. Did she mean it? She wasn’t the kind of person who said one thing and meant another so he took her at her word.  
“Let me know if you need another drink,” he said, and she waved him away.  
The night picked up once the food appeared. Junmyeon knew he was drinking more than he should, trading shots with Sehun who had brought along a bottle of very expensive Japanese whisky and was sharing it around liberally. [y/n] didn’t like it when he drank too much, but as the night went on, he found he didn’t care. He didn’t sit with her at dinner. [y/n] loosened up a bit at least and was laughing with Baekhyun at the other end of the table. When he saw her laughing with someone else, he felt that distance again, the one that had been opening up between them for months. When was the last time she had laughed like that with him? He didn’t remember. By the time everyone had eaten, and someone suggested taking the party to one of the clubs in Itaewon, Junmyeon was nicely drunk.  
“Are we going now?” Jongin asked, practically bouncing. He had been talking about dancing for an hour. Baekhyun was already at the door and putting on his shoes.  
“Not tonight for me,” said Minseok, already clearing the dishes from the table.  
“Come on,” Kyungsoo coaxed him, but once Minseok made up his mind there was no changing it. Junmyeon knew better than to try. He glanced across at Sehun, who was staring out at the windows in the lounge, chin resting on his hand. He didn’t look awake, even though his eyes were open.  
“I’ll look after him,” said Chanyeol, nudging Junmyeon and nodding at Sehun.  
“I want to stay here,” Sehun said suddenly. Junmyeon glanced at Minseok, who rolled his eyes.  
“I already took out the spare blankets,” said Minseok. This was a far-too-often occurrence for anyone to be surprised. “Someone will have to stay with him, or he’ll try to come in with me.”  
Chanyeol volunteered to stay with Sehun, and Junmyeon stood up to leave. He realised that [y/n] was still sitting, looking towards the kitchen where Minseok was starting to wash up alone.  
“Are you coming, [y/n]? I can take you home first if you don’t want to.”  
“No, I think… I think someone should help Minseok,” she said. She didn’t look at him. He leaned down and kissed her cheek, and she gave him a tight smile. He wasn’t drunk enough to not feel a bit like she was giving him the cold shoulder.  
“I’ll see you at home,” he said, and then he left.


	4. The Incident with the Dishes

[y/n] knocked on the wall outside the kitchen, since the door was already open. Minseok glanced around and then did a double take. He had his hands in the sink, encased in yellow rubber gloves. When he turned, some water slopped out and onto his grey t-shirt. It soaked in, plastering the fabric to his stomach. [y/n] looked anywhere but at him.  
“I thought you left,” he said.  
“Junmyeon and the others did,” she said. “I don’t want to go dancing. You look like you could use some help.” It was a lame excuse. She should probably have gone dancing with them, to work out some of the tension that had been building in her all evening, but she was getting tired of fighting her need to be around him.  
“You don’t have to, I don’t mind doing this,” he said, but when he smiled, he smiled like he wanted her to stay so she had to now. This was less like she wanted to and more like she should. For the sake of salvaging some more of their erstwhile friendship, or at least for the sake of the mess the kitchen was in. She felt less like she was betraying Junmyeon by just being in the same room as Minseok if she was helping him out.  
“What can I do?” she asked, looking around. Minseok gestured towards the recycling. Sehun’s empty whisky bottle was there, alongside over a dozen cans of that cheap beer they all loved, as well as the food containers.  
“This needs sorting, if you don’t mind,” he said. “Or I can do it, and you could do these?” [y/n] looked over the mountain of dishes and pots beside him.  
“I’ll do this first. That pile is big, you’ll probably need help with it when I’m finished.”  
Minseok nodded and turned back to the sink. [y/n] got to work, sorting the recycling. It was good to be doing something. When she started to feel warm, she took off her hoodie and hung it on one of the dishrag hooks by the door. As she crouched down beside the recycling again, she caught Minseok staring at her.  
“What?” she asked, before she could stop herself. But he was staring at her chest. A couple of years of shy glances aside, he had never been this forward. She felt her face get hot.  
“You’re wearing…”  
She realised she was wearing the necklace; the feather necklace he had given her for her birthday. She wore it nearly every day, but she was careful to keep it under her clothes. She knew she could just tell Junmyeon about it, but it had been so long now that he might ask why she hadn’t told him before… or why she wore it so much. It was easier to hide it. In her haste to discard her hoodie, she forgot that she had only a vest-top underneath, and nowhere to hide the necklace. She reached up and held it for a second, unable to meet Minseok’s eyes.  
“Yeah, well, it’s pretty…” she mumbled. She went back to sorting the recycling.

Minseok was stacking the dishwasher by the time [y/n] finished sorting the bottles and containers. He made some room for her at the work surface when she stood up to help him and avoided looking at her too much. She was wearing the necklace he had given her and that was making him smile stupidly. He didn’t want her to see.  
“Is this the end?” she asked, glancing around for more dishes to hand to him. He straightened up.  
“There’s some more things behind you,” he said, but instead of waiting for her to pick up the pile of knives and spoons, he stepped around her and reached for them instead. That was how he ended up pinning her against the work surface. Her face was far too close to his. She wasn’t blinking. Her eyes were huge, and she was looking directly at his lips. He was close enough to tell that she wasn’t breathing. She looked half-terrified of what he was going to do next, but he didn’t move, not as fast as he should have.  
“Sorry,” he said, and it came out hoarse, and he had to say it again. He put his hands on her waist, and gently moved her out of his way. He left his hands there one second, two seconds too long. Then a small noise in the hallway outside of the kitchen made him jump and he let her go, reaching out to grab the cutlery in both hands.  
Chanyeol came into the kitchen and asked for some water for Sehun. Minseok busied himself arranging the knives and spoons and chopsticks in the dishwasher before he told him there were bottles in the fridge.  
[y/n] stirred and grabbed a glass from the top of the dishwasher, running it under the tap and filling it, making to hand it to Chanyeol then pulling it back again.  
“Here,” she said. “I’ll take it to him.”  
She walked out of the kitchen. 

Chanyeol stepped back to let [y/n] pass. Minseok was busy with the dishwasher and didn't look at him. Chanyeol didn't press him; he knew what he had seen. Minseok and [y/n]... he had never seen her look at anyone the way she had been looking at Minseok, pressed between him and the work surface; not even Junmyeon. Chanyeol shook his head and followed her out into the hallway and down to the second bedroom, where Sehun was sitting up trying to read one of Minseok's books.  
"Here's some water. If you're going to throw up, do it in the bathroom," said [y/n], setting the glass down on the table next to the bed. Seemingly as an afterthought, she took a tissue from the box nearby and set the glass on it. It irked Chanyeol that she did that; it was the kind of thing Minseok would like. He left the room and went back to the living room. He was wired, sober now. He hadn't had a drink in hours, and he wished he had. He felt again that familiar pang of jealousy whenever he looked at [y/n], except that this time, it wasn't towards Junmyeon.  
Minseok wandered out of the kitchen. He looked troubled.  
"I'm going to bed," he said. "Are you sleeping out here?"  
"No, I'll go sleep in the other room with Sehunnie."  
"Okay."  
[y/n] joined them.  
"I should go," she said. "It's late. Thanks for dinner." She made to move past Minseok but he held up his phone showing the time.  
"You've missed the subway," he said. "Just stay here. I'll drive you home in the morning."  
[y/n] glanced back at the spare bedroom.  
"Sleep in here," Chanyeol spoke up. "I'll be in there." He gestured towards the spare bedroom but made no move towards it. He was resolved now that he wanted to talk to her. He needed to talk to her. He felt like he was going insane and she was the only person who could put him at ease with this. She looked like she was about to say no, but eventually shrugged. Minseok told her where to find extra blankets, and with a last too-long look at her, he went to his bedroom and shut the door. Chanyeol felt a surge of anger towards Minseok. What was going on?  
Chanyeol told [y/n] to sit and went to fetch the blankets himself. When he got back, she was staring into space.  
"Listen, [y/n]... can we talk?" He sat down next to her. [y/n] looked up at him like she had forgotten he was there, and that bothered him more than anything else. Well, not more than seeing her with Minseok. She nodded vaguely and he struggled for a place to start.  
He knew he was eventually going to have to tell her that he had feelings for her. He thought she was starting to feel the same way. She had been spending so much time in the studio, coming in early and bringing him coffee when he was there all night, or staying late until he had to tell her to go home. He thought she was spending time there because she liked spending time with him. He had seen her marriage with Junmyeon deteriorate over the last couple of months, and he had been waiting until she had realised it before he said anything. It wouldn't be fair to put that on her before she was at least in a situation where she could consider what he was saying. But with Minseok... Something caught his eye.  
"What is that?" he asked, pointing.  
"Oh," she said, grasping the feather pendant that hung around her neck. "It was a birthday present."  
"From Junmyeon?"  
"No."  
Chanyeol nodded, realisation dawning. Everything was starting to make sense now. He remembered the day clearly, walking around that department store with Minseok. He had been looking at the watches at the jewellery counters and found Minseok inspecting one of the displays.   
"That's pretty," Chanyeol had said, when he saw what he was looking at.  
"It looks like something [y/n] would wear," Minseok had said, shrugging and walking away. Chanyeol suggested they tell Junmyeon about it, since it was nearly White Day, but Minseok didn't answer him. He recognised the necklace now, and it started making sense: why she stayed late at the studio, why she wasn't happy any time he saw her with Junmyeon, why she had been avoiding dinners and drinks and parties for months... why she hadn't laughed or moved away when Minseok had trapped her between his body and the work surface earlier. Why she had even stayed late at all. He felt like crying; was she in love with Minseok? Would anything he said now make a difference? He didn't know but he had to try.  
"[y/n]. Look. I have to tell you something. And I know you can't give me an answer because you're with Junmyeon right now, but I have to tell you or I'm going to go insane. I need you to know how I feel."  
"What?" [y/n]'s eyes widened, and he realised that for the first time tonight, probably for the first time in a long time, he had her full attention. That should have made him stop but it didn't. He had never been one to give up on things.  
"I like you," he said. "I really like you. And I-"  
"Stop."  
"No, I need you to know-"  
"What are you even talking about?!" She was starting to turn red; her voice was shaking. Was she angry? She stood up. He stood up too.  
"Please, I just needed you to know."  
"Why?!" She stepped away, putting the coffee table between them.  
"Because... because I can't watch you with him anymore and not tell you."


	5. Into the Fire

[y/n] reeled from his confession. He was her friend, her boss, Junmyeon’s friend. She had never thought of him any other way. Of course [y/n] knew Chanyeol was handsome but so was everyone else he hung out with. It was more of a fact than an opinion to her. She couldn't meet his eyes, his big, dark eyes that were fixed so intently on her face. She had no idea what to say to him except that she was sorry, and she said that, twice.  
“Me too,” he said sadly. “But I think we should talk about it. Or about your-” She stopped him there. What was he going to say? Her feelings? Whether or not she was really going to marry Junmyeon? What could she tell him, that she was feeling trapped in her own life and that she was starting to worry that she was in love with the wrong person? He was her friend, and she knew that if she started talking to him now, she might tell him everything. And that wasn’t what he needed to hear. She couldn’t even look at him.  
“I can’t do this,” she said. She walked away from him, suddenly feeling very hemmed in by this apartment.  
"[y/n] please, don't go. We need to talk."  
"I can't," [y/n] said, backing towards the corridor that connected the bedrooms to the living room. "Not right now. Please just... give me time." She reached the end of the corridor. Sehun was probably still awake and still drunk in the other bedroom, and the bathroom was too small. She only had one option besides leaving the apartment, and for some reason she didn’t think to do that. In any other circumstance, her heart would have been pounding with apprehension, knocking on Minseok's door so late at night. Her heart was beating fast, but it had nothing to do with him. At least until he opened the door in just a pair of pyjama bottoms.  
"What's wrong, [y/n]?" She found it impossible not to stare. His abs were so well-defined in the half-light of the dim room behind him. But she knew Chanyeol was standing in the living room, watching her, so without thinking too much, [y/n] pushed past him into the bedroom and sat down on his bed. Minseok looked out the door and shrugged at Chanyeol, then shut the door.  
"Minseok... don’t ask me why but it’s not what you… probably… think. Can I stay in here tonight?" Minseok looked at her hard for a second, his face unreadable. He must remember as clearly as she did what had happened between them earlier. She was still painfully aware of where he had touched her.  
“I’ll go sleep out there,” he said quickly, but she held up her hand. If he went out there, he might talk to Chanyeol. The last thing she needed was for the two of them to have a conversation about her feelings. She didn’t understand them herself, and they were so bound up in how she felt about Minseok that he was the last person who needed to hear that Chanyeol had made a confession. She had to keep him here.  
“Can you stay here, with me?” she asked. He gave her a long look but eventually, he nodded.  
Minseok looked decidedly awkward. He was standing there in just his pyjama bottoms while [y/n] was still more-or-less fully dressed.  
"I should..." he trailed off, ducking behind the room division, towards his wardrobe.  
"Oh, yeah, sorry." As Minseok rooted around looking for a top, [y/n] discreetly checked her hair, then scolded herself. This was Junmyeon's friend. [y/n] shouldn't care what he thought of her hair.  
"Do you need something to sleep in?" Minseok asked, and [y/n] closed her eyes. Right then, she didn't care that he was hurting; she cursed Chanyeol for putting her in this situation with Minseok.  
"Um, yes, please," [y/n] said, and Minseok came out from behind the partition and handed her a sleeveless t-shirt and some jogging pants. He had put on a vest, but his impressive shoulders were still clearly visible. "I'll give you some privacy," he said, and turned on the spot. He walked back behind the partition. The action was so cute, the embarrassment that flushed his cheeks when he turned so endearing that [y/n] couldn't help but laugh. It broke the tension somewhat, as she shrugged out of her own clothes and put on his. They smelled like Minseok, tangy and citrus and masculine. [y/n] tried not to breathe in.

It had been nearly an hour. [y/n] put one of the pillows between them because it would have been stupid to let Minseok sleep on the floor like he was going to. His bed was big enough for the both of them.  
“We’re friends,” she had insisted to him when he said he would sleep on the floor so as not to make her uncomfortable. ‘Friends,’ she had said, like saying the word would help her convince herself that that was all that they were. That this was all she thought when she looked at him and talked to him and shared his general space.   
At some point his breathing evened out so [y/n] knew he was asleep, but it was still impossible for her. She couldn't relax. There had always been something there between her and Minseok, that early on she interpreted as just being on the same wavelength. When Junmyeon brought her out with the members, when they were chaotic or if there was tension, Minseok was like the calm centre, occasionally making a jibe or lightening the mood. [y/n] felt herself naturally gravitating towards him, even after he stopped talking to her, finding excuses to join whatever conversation he was in, to shelter in the lee of his calm good humour. Was it in her imagination that Minseok had called time on their friendship? Junmyeon never said anything before or since, so [y/n] never thought that their friendship was anything... untoward. Until her birthday… until he gave her the necklace… until tonight. Until he had tried to reach around her at the sink to get to the cutlery behind her and pinned her against the work surface. Her eyes had been level with his Adam’s apple, she had watched it bob when he tried to speak. It had been seconds, but it had felt like longer. Then he had tried to move her, and he left his hands on her waist too long. She hadn’t tried to stop him, she knew. She hated herself for that; she hated herself for noticing every detail of him when he was filling her field of vision. All of this came back to her as she lay awake in the darkness, and she picked up the nearest pillow and buried her face in it. How could she think like this? Why did he make her feel this way?! She started to blame Minseok because it was easier than blaming herself.  
Too late, she realised that she had picked up the pillow that was between them. She didn't move. If she put the pillow back now, he might notice and think she was trying to wake him up. It was already suspicious enough that she was in here in the first place. Carefully, she moved the pillow down to her side and dropped it on the floor. There was nothing between them now but that was fine as long as she didn't move.  
A noise in the apartment somewhere, a door closing or Sehun or Chaneyol moving around maybe, seemed to rouse him. He made a noise, but he didn't seem too bothered. He did move, though. [y/n] was frozen as he rolled over onto his side and slung his arm across the bed. Then, it was draped across her waist and in seconds she knew that he wasn't asleep anymore. Her own breath was shallow, and she couldn't seem to think. All [y/n] knew was that she didn't want him to move his hand and at the same time she was desperate for him to. This was terrible. This was thrilling. This was a disaster. She could make a joke about it. She could roll over suddenly and he might- he pressed the tips of his fingers into her side and she forgot what she thought he might do. What he was doing was all she could think about. She chanced a look across at him. She could see his eyes in the half-light coming through the blinds.  
"Minseok...?" she whispered. She was asking him not to look at her like that, she told herself. She was asking him to move his hand from where it was searing an imprint onto her skin beneath his t-shirt that she was wearing. That was what she told herself. Slowly, he propped himself up on his elbow, then-  
BANG. That was definitely a door this time. They both jumped, Minseok snatching his hand back to his side of the bed. A soft knock on the door, and then it opened onto the darkened hallway. Sehun wandered in, clearly still drunk, in his underwear and a t-shirt.  
"Can I sleep in here? Hyung left."

Minseok lay awake for hours after, watching the light that spilled in through gaps in the curtains make patterns on the ceiling above his head. Beside him, Sehun was sleeping soundly. He had fallen asleep in seconds after [y/n] left to make room for him, whatever had happened to make her run to his room in the first place clearly having to do with Chanyeol, since his leaving meant she was happy to go sleep in the spare bedroom. Minseok hadn’t asked what it had been about; he had trusted her to tell him and she hadn’t said anything. Sehun had made himself at home in the space that she left behind, his long body folding around the pillow that [y/n] had picked up and thrown back onto the bed when she left. When had she taken it away? How long was he lying there, asleep, without a barrier between her body and his? What did she mean by it? He reached up and lightly touched his lips with his hand. He knew what he had been about to do, before Sehun came in. If he had, would she have stopped him? Yes, she would have. She had been about to, he had thought. His arm falling across her stomach, that had been an accident. Leaving it there was a mistake… but she hadn't pushed him away. Why hadn’t she pushed him away?  
Minseok shut his eyes tight and fought the urge to shout. It was his fault, not hers. She was his friend's wife. What was he thinking? He had almost forced a confrontation, forced her to tell him not to. He had already torn apart their friendship, dissolved it under the force of his own feelings to preserve himself. All of those months of holding back, when all he wanted was to stand quietly next to her and listen and laugh and make her smile, would have been for nothing if she had to tell him she didn’t want him out loud. If Sehun hadn't come in... Almost on cue, Sehun shifted over in the bed and slung his arm across Minseok. It was such a bizarre parody of what had happened with [y/n] that Minseok smiled bitterly to himself in the dark.  
"Sehunnie," Minseok nudged him in the ribs. Sehun made a noise halfway between a protest and a moan, not quite awake but probably somewhat aware that he was wrapping himself around another human body, since his right leg was right now trying to insinuate itself between Minseok's legs. This is why he always insisted that someone else stay over to sleep next to Sehun. Minseok shook Sehun off and swung himself out of bed. Sehun splayed himself out into the space that was left, taking up the entire bed like it was his property.  
Glancing at the clock beside his bed, Minseok saw that it was just before dawn. He paced around the room for a few minutes before making up his mind. It wasn't unreasonable that he would be up this early, he had schedules at times like this on most days. Not today but [y/n] didn't know that.  
He opened the door into the hallway and looked out but there was no one there, and the living room was still dark. He wondered if he could get away with checking on her on the pretence of going to the bathroom but decided that it wasn't worth sneaking around at this point. They had to face this, whatever it was. It was killing him seeing her all the time and not... they had to talk. So, he took a deep breath and stepped out into the corridor, just as he heard the front door open quietly and shut again, as [y/n] left the apartment.


	6. Enough is Enough

Chanyeol walked around for a couple of hours, sobering himself up, before he decided to go and find the others. He was winding himself up, thinking about what he had said to [y/n] and realising how futile it had all been. Even if she wasn’t clearly – so obviously, now – in love with Minseok… even then, she didn’t see him the way he saw her.  
He had already crossed the river and made for the club in Itaewon that Jongin had mentioned to him before they left. He should have gone with them in the first place, instead of hanging around to talk to [y/n]. Minseok didn’t need his help with Sehun; there was a lock on his bedroom door, wasn’t there? He thought bitterly of the moment when [y/n] had disappeared into the bedroom, how Minseok had just looked at him like this wasn’t exactly what he wanted all along. He knew that was uncharitable, but he didn’t care. Right at that second, he hated Minseok. He hated him enough that he hadn’t been able to stay in the apartment any longer.  
The club was heaving when he went in, but he didn’t join the main dancefloor. He wouldn’t find the members there. He climbed the stairs and nodded a hello to the big man at the door of the closed private room that opened out onto the balcony. The man must have recognised him because he didn’t even ask who he was before he let him in.  
There was about a dozen people inside. Junmyeon was lounging on a banquette talking to one of the producers from the label, and Baekhyun was there too, chipping in occasionally when he wasn’t singing along to the music. Jongin was the centre of a small group in the corner, not speaking but laughing at whatever was being said. Chanyeol knew who a few of the people in that group were, but not all of them. He cast about for Kyungsoo and saw him leaning against the balcony railing, looking down on the dancefloor below. Chanyeol asked a passing waiter to get him a drink and joined Kyungsoo.  
“I thought you were staying at Minseok’s.”  
“I got bored,” said Chanyeol. The waiter appeared with his drink and he took a long sip. He was sober again and didn’t really care for the whisky, but it was something to do with his hands.  
“Did [y/n] get home safe?” Kyungsoo asked. Chanyeol shot him a glance. What was that supposed to mean? Did it mean anything other than what it sounded like? Kyungsoo looked confused. “Didn’t you take her home? Isn’t that why you’re here?”  
“No,” Chanyeol said, realising that it would be a logical conclusion on Kyungsoo’s part, to assume that the reason he had left Minseok’s was to walk [y/n] home. He kicked himself for not thinking of doing just that in the first place. Now, he was at a loss for words. Kyungsoo turned and made to walk over to where Junmyeon was sitting. Chanyeol reached out and caught his arm.  
“Where are you going?”  
“To ask Junmyeon if he heard from [y/n],” said Kyungsoo. He seemed genuinely concerned and Chanyeol realised that he had, by his silence, implied that [y/n] had been left to cross the city by herself in the middle of the night. Chanyeol pulled him back.  
“Don’t, she’s fine. She stayed at Minseok’s.” Chanyeol turned back to the railing. Kyungsoo regarded him for a second and then re-joined him.  
“What’s wrong?” he asked eventually. Chanyeol shrugged.  
“I just wanted to come out,” he said.  
“No, you didn’t,” said Kyungsoo. “You told me earlier that you didn’t want to go out tonight. What’s wrong? Did Sehun say something?”  
Chanyeol laughed in spite of his bad humour.  
“Of course not.”  
Kyungsoo watched the dancefloor in silence for a moment. Then-  
“Is it [y/n]?”  
Chanyeol turned to face him. Kyungsoo had the kind of default expression that could mask any emotion. He could be telling you that your house was burning down with your family inside or that you had just been nominated for a Grammy and his expression would be the same either way. His expression tonight was giving nothing away either. Chanyeol knew that he was the opposite; his face was an open book. Kyungsoo glanced at him and in a second he knew that Kyungsoo had guessed that he was right. Whatever had driven Chanyeol to Itaewon, [y/n] was at the root of it. Kyungsoo turned around and gave Junmyeon a long look.  
“I think he knows by now that his marriage is over. We can all see it,” said Kyungsoo. “You’re not the only one who’s worried.”  
Chanyeol considered for a second telling Kyungsoo everything: how he felt, how he had confessed to [y/n], how she had literally hidden from him… how she was clearly in love with someone else. How that person wasn’t her husband. He considered it, and then he dismissed it all. It wasn’t his place to tell anyone about how [y/n] felt. He knocked back his drink and ordered another. When he was finished, he left.  
It was dawn when he left Itaewon. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through until he found the name he needed.  
“Hyung,” he said, when Minseok picked up, “can we talk? I left. I’m sorry. I’m on my way over now. Is Sehunnie okay?”  
“He’s fine,” said Minseok. “He’s asleep. He took over my bed.”  
Chanyeol frowned. His bed?  
“Where’s [y/n]?” he blurted out, before he could stop himself. There was silence on the other end of the line for a couple of seconds.  
“She went home, I think. She went to sleep in the spare bedroom after you left, and she just went home. I think. She’s not here.”  
Chanyeol didn’t even say goodbye, he just hung up and changed direction.

Junmyeon wasn't in the apartment when [y/n] let herself in, in the early hours of the morning. He was probably still out or sleeping at Jongin's. She had taken the bed in the spare bedroom after Sehun came in, and left Minseok's apartment as soon as the subway started again. She hadn’t slept.  
[y/n] didn't know what to think about what had happened last night. About what might have happened if Sehun hadn't come in. She caught sight of the picture of her with Junmyeon that they had framed in their living room, a candid photograph that Jongin had taken in the early days of their relationship, down by the river. They looked so happy. [y/n] couldn't remember the last time she had been that happy with him. A distance had opened up between them in the last few months, exacerbated by his work and hers. Things were so different now she had no idea how to bridge the gap between them. To bring them back to where they had been in that photograph. If she was being honest with herself… she wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore. A knock on the door startled her out of her reverie. Did Junmyeon forget his keys? She opened the door, but it wasn't Junmyeon on the other side. It was Chanyeol, and he looked like he hadn't slept either.  
"[y/n]," he said, "please. We need to talk."

[y/n] brought Chanyeol a cup of coffee and made one for herself.  
"What do you want to talk about?" she asked him. "I thought we covered everything last night." She knew she sounded ratty. It wasn't fair on him; he was clearly still wounded. "I'm still married to Junmyeon, Chanyeol, and even if I wasn't..."  
"I know," he said. "I just wanted to say... look, there's a reason I told you how I felt last night. You and Junmyeon... it's over, isn't it?" [y/n] stared at him in surprise. No one had put it into words for her before. Her marriage was over. She had thought it, without admitting it to herself, for months now. Junmyeon knew, it was in every action he took. The only thing that was left was for them to say it to each other. She loved him, but she knew she wasn't in love with him anymore. But if Chanyeol knew that...  
"What did Junmyeon tell you?"  
"Nothing," he said. "It was you, actually. You've not been happy for months, I've noticed. And then last night..."  
"What about last night?" [y/n] asked. He couldn't know what had happened with Minseok. No one had been in the room. Unless-  
"I saw you in the kitchen. With Minseok-hyung. I saw… the two of you, how you looked at him." He didn't meet her eyes. [y/n] knew what he was thinking, though: why can't you look at me like that?  
"Why didn't you say anything?" [y/n] asked. She realised that she wasn't denying it, but it was too late now.  
"I didn't know what to say," said Chanyeol, "except that I wanted you to know how I felt. I wanted to have a chance. But I don't, now. Do I? Do you love Minseok? Does Junmyeon know?"  
Her heart was beating very fast. She had no idea what to say. Did she love him? Was she in love with Minseok? Could she answer him honestly, and still be honest with herself? [y/n] didn't have a chance to answer at all, though, because at that moment, Junmyeon cleared his throat. He was standing in the doorway.  
"The front door was left open..." he said.


	7. The Aftermath

Chanyeol had left his car, and Minseok decided to drive it over to the studio when he couldn’t get him on the phone again. Sehun wasn’t happy about being woken up and told to leave so early in the morning and was sullen in the car until Minseok pulled into a drive-thru and got him something to eat.  
“Where did Chanyeol go last night?” he asked Sehun, but Sehun had just shrugged.  
“He didn’t tell me. He just left.”  
Minseok dropped Sehun at his own apartment and then made for Chanyeol’s studio. He was hoping that [y/n] would be there too. Junmyeon had mentioned that she was spending a lot of time at work at the moment, and he still wanted to talk to her about what had almost-happened last night, for no other reason than to apologise for taking things too far. When he parked up behind the studio, he saw Chanyeol and waved.  
“I brought your car,” he said, handing over the keys.  
“Thanks,” Chanyeol muttered, not looking at him. He looked troubled.  
“What’s wrong?” Minseok asked. Chanyeol didn’t say anything. “Chanyeollie.” Minseok reached out but Chanyeol shook him off.  
“It’s nothing, hyung. Thanks for bringing my car,” Chanyeol turned and walked off. Minseok was left staring after him. This wasn’t like him at all. Chanyeol’s good humour wasn’t inexhaustible, but his moods were usually short-lived. Something must be wrong. Was this why he had left suddenly in the middle of the night?  
Minseok crossed the street and bought some coffee, getting an extra one in case [y/n] was in the studio too, and then knocked on the studio door. Chanyeol buzzed him in without saying anything. Minseok found him at the bar he had built for himself, scrolling through his phone but not really looking at it. Minseok stepped behind the bar and set a coffee down next to him.  
“Thanks,” Chanyeol muttered.  
“What’s wrong? Why did you leave last night?”  
Chanyeol played with the sleeve on his cup and took a sip.  
“Are you in love with [y/n]?” he asked suddenly. Minseok felt his mouth drop open. He broke into a cold sweat, his heart starting to pound. Had Kyungsoo told Chanyeol? No, he wouldn’t have. Kyungsoo was a vault when it came to secrets. Then…[y/n]? Had she figured it out? He still hadn’t answered. Chanyeol looked up at him, his big eyes sad and red-rimmed with tiredness. When he saw Minseok’s face, he grimaced.   
“You are,” he said. He sounded like he was in pain. This barely registered with Minseok, though, because he was trying not to panic.  
“What?”  
“You’re making the same face she made when I asked her if she was in love with you.”  
“What- what did she say?” Minseok managed to ask. He was glad he was leaning on the bar because he didn’t trust himself to stand unsupported right now. His legs felt like paper.  
“She didn’t say anything,” said Chanyeol. “Junmyeon came in and I left.”  
Minseok frowned.  
“Where… what happened?” He felt like he was missing something here.  
“I went to see her, a couple of hours ago, at their apartment. Junmyeon came home while we were talking.”  
Minseok frowned at Chanyeol. There was still something missing.  
“Why did you go to see her?” he asked. Too late he realised how territorial he sounded. [y/n] wasn’t his to be territorial about. He bit his lip. Chanyeol had definitely noticed, though.  
“She works with me, she’s my friend, why shouldn’t I go to see her?”  
Minseok’s hands went to his hair, rubbing the back of his head in frustration. “I meant, why- no, start again. What happened last night? Why did she ask to stay with me after talking to you? Why did you leave? Why did you call me this morning and then hang up and go to see [y/n]? I’m confused.”  
“Yeah,” said Chanyeol bitterly. “You are confused.”  
Minseok frowned.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“[y/n] isn’t married to you. You seem confused about that.”  
Minseok was stunned. His heart was beating very fast. He had no idea what to say. Chanyeol rarely lashed out. This felt like more was happening here than he understood. He realised that it would be useless to push Chanyeol while he was like this, so he didn’t say anything, and they sat in silence. After ten minutes had passed, Minseok decided to leave. Chanyeol would come around eventually and call him, that’s what happened on the rare occasions he got worked up about something.  
Minseok made for the door and heard someone punch in the code as he approached.  
“Who else is coming in today?” Minseok. Chanyeol straighted up and turned around.  
“No one, except-”  
Minseok looked back at the door and found himself face-to-face with [y/n].  
“Hi,” he said. She stared at him for a second, and then stepped around him. It had only been a second, but it was enough for Minseok to see that she had been crying. She looked exhausted, her eyes red-rimmed (and yet, still beautiful, Minseok thought to himself, guiltily). Why was she crying? Had he done that? Was it his fault that she was upset? He felt a surge of self-loathing and considered staying to talk to her but couldn’t bring himself to, not when he might have been the reason she was crying. He said goodbye without turning around and left.

The door shutting behind Minseok felt significant. [y/n] wondered if she would see him again, if he would even want to or be able to see her. She shut her eyes and took a breath, admonishing herself for thinking about Minseok right now. For noticing how worried he had looked, his beautiful eyes full of concern for her when she walked in and clearly looked like shit. She was glad that he left, but she wished Chanyeol wasn’t here. She could do with some quiet to process what had just happened.  
Chanyeol didn’t say anything, but he did walk over and put a coffee on her desk. She looked at the cup, at the name a barista had scrawled on the sleeve when it was ordered: Minseok. She felt her eyes starting to water and took the sleeve off of the cup, throwing it in the bin.  
Chanyeol left her alone all morning. It wasn’t so much an effort on his part since he lay down on the couch and fell asleep, but she appreciated the quiet, nonetheless.  
When he had come to see her earlier, before he had left the apartment and did the conversational equivalent of throwing a match on a gasoline spill, she hadn’t had a chance to answer him. Was she in love with Minseok? Honestly, she didn’t know. How much of what she felt for him was bound up in her waning feelings for Junmyeon?  
It was impossible not to compare them. That birthday – that damned birthday – when Junmyeon hadn’t shown up and sent Minseok instead, it felt like a sign. Here was a man who put her before his work… here was a friend who understood her and liked her company and had grown to love her for all of that. It was hard not to think of hers and Junmyeon’s early days in light of that, how they had become so serious before they even really knew each other. For the last year, every time she thought about her marriage, she thought about how things would be different if she was married to Minseok. It was so unfair on him, on Junmyeon, and on her. She didn’t want to think about it now.  
Her marriage was over. Junmyeon had sat down next to her on the couch they bought together, and they had agreed that there was nothing to do but end it now. He looked defeated. She had asked him if he was drunk, but he told her that he hadn’t had any alcohol since leaving Minseok’s, and he seemed so sober and serious that she believed him. He hadn’t asked if it was true. He hadn’t even said he overheard what Chanyeol had asked her. He had simply said the thing that they had both been avoiding for months.  
“I don’t think I love you anymore, like I used to.”  
They had agreed to talk more later about what the logistics of the break-up would be, but she asked him for time to process this. Thinking about the end of her marriage wasn’t the same as actually ending it, and she knew she was still in shock. She took a shower and got dressed and had come to work on barely two hours of fitful sleep and adrenaline only. So, she drank the coffee that Minseok must have bought for her and felt light-headed, and when Chanyeol woke up she told him that she was quitting her job.

Minseok decided to walk home. It was about three kilometres, but he needed some fresh air. Seeing [y/n], even though he’d been expecting it, had hit him like a gut punch, in the same way that it always did. He wondered if he would ever stop feeling like this when he saw her. His phone started to ring when he was nearly home and he entertained the vague hope that it was [y/n] or at least Chanyeol calling to clear the air, but it wasn’t either. It was Kyungsoo.  
“Hyung, where are you?” he asked when Minseok answered the phone. Minseok looked around.  
“I’m on the street, near my apartment,” he said.  
“I’m on my way over, I’ll meet you there,” said Kyungsoo, then he hung up. He wasn’t there when Minseok got home so he took a shower and was cleaning the bathroom when Kyungsoo arrived.  
“Come out,” said Kyungsoo when he found Minseok. “I brought us some breakfast.” Minseok realised that it was still early in the day. So much had already happened that he thought it was later than it was. He finished cleaning the sink, washed his hands, and joined Kyungsoo at the table in the living room. Kyungsoo had brought steamed buns and the smell was making Minseok’s mouth water. He started eating, wondering vaguely what Kyungsoo was doing here but too hungry to ask about it yet. Kyungsoo ate too, taking small bites and looking uncomfortable. Eventually, Minseok stopped eating.  
“What’s wrong?”  
Kyungsoo was looking everywhere but at him.  
“I just came from Junmyeon’s,” he said. Minseok stopped eating. Kyungsoo went on.  
“He called me, and he was… He asked me to cover for him at the company today. He didn’t tell me everything, but I think he and [y/n] broke up.” Minseok wished he hadn’t taken such a large bite. The food felt like glue in his mouth. No wonder [y/n] had looked so upset.  
“When?” he managed to swallow his food and ask that one question.  
“This morning. Junmyeon’s in shock.”  
“This morning? What, just… now? I just saw [y/n], she was at work.”  
Kyungsoo’s expression turned stony.  
“You just saw her? Why?”  
Minseok felt a bit defensive. He hadn’t done anything wrong… that Kyungsoo knew about. His eyes went to the kitchen through the window in the wall, to where he had stood with her last night.  
“Chanyeol left his car at my apartment. I brought it back to him, at the studio. I saw her there.” He didn’t need to elaborate. Kyungsooo didn’t need to know what he had talked about with Chanyeol. Kyungsoo’s look told him that he knew something, though, and Minseok felt instantly guilty. “She didn’t say anything. I didn’t speak to her, really.”  
Kyungsoo nodded.  
“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to stay away from [y/n] right now.” Kyungsoo sat forward, fixing Minseok with a hard look. “Promise me. Please.”  
Minseok looked down at his hands, then pushed one of them through his hair and looked around the room.  
“She needs friends too,” he said quietly, but he knew what it sounded like, how petulant he sounded. He knew that Kyungsoo had noticed that split second after he had told Minseok that Junmyeon and [y/n] were over when he hadn’t been able to hide a spark of hope. Kyungsoo knew him better than anyone, he will have noticed that.  
“She has friends,” said Kyungsoo. “We’re Junmyeon’s friends, she has her own. Please. Just leave it for a while,” he said. He sounded like he was pleading, and Minseok knew it was perfectly reasonable, but he hated that it was.  
“I won’t call her,” he said, but Kyungsoo just shook his head.  
“More than that. If she calls you, don’t answer. Please.”  
“Is this about the group? You think me and Junmyeon couldn’t work together or be friends if-”  
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” said Kyungsoo levelly, and Minseok couldn’t argue with him but he felt a surge of anger anyway. Putting the group first had been one of the things that Junmyeon had done to [y/n] again and again; it was toxic. Before he could make his argument, an argument that he knew was a thin veneer for his feelings in any case, Kyungsoo started talking again. He sounded sad; his deep voice was so low that Minseok had to strain to hear him.  
“This is for your own good, Minseok. She won’t know how she feels about you right now. She just left her husband, and if she comes to you now, it won’t be because she thinks it’s right, not entirely anyway. She looks at you and sees everything Junmyeon isn’t. That’s not fair to you. And what about Junmyeon? He would have to see you every day. Just… please, leave it. For a few months. Promise me.” Kyungsoo look wretched. Minseok could see that and felt some measure of comfort in the fact that his friend was, in spite of everything, on his side. Kyungsoo was on Junmyeon’s side too. He was just a good friend, and he didn’t want to see anyone get hurt. It was good to have a friend like that, who could tell him outright what had to be done but still feel sorry about it.  
Minseok’s throat was tight. He searched his friends face for any hint, any indication that there was a way around what he was saying, but he couldn’t argue with him. Kyungsoo was right. Anything he could possibly have with [y/n] would be built out of the ashes of her destroyed marriage. He put his head in his hands.  
Minseok sometimes wondered what it would have been like if he had met [y/n] first. He remembered Junmyeon telling him about her, before he had even asked her out. There was a brief window of time when she was in his immediate universe and not with his friend. If he could go back and tell his past self to insist that Junmyeon introduced them, would he? He couldn’t even recall if he had even liked her like that at first. When had he started to fall for her? When had his life started to pivot around her? At some point she had become all he could think about. At some point, everything that happened in his day felt like something he wanted to tell her about. And as soon as he noticed this, he had stopped texting her, stopped meeting her for coffee, stopped standing quietly next to her at parties. He started avoiding her because he couldn’t stand that she would be so present in a conversation with him, give so much of her attention to him when he was starving for it, and then go home with his friend. It hurt to see her. It hurt to not see her. Was it the same for her? Would she even be able to think about being with him right now, even if it was?  
He couldn’t wish for something that was never possible, to have never fallen in love with her or to have been the one who asked her out first. His sad wish was that he could have ever met anyone else who made him feel the way she did.  
He could feel his tears soaking his palms and running into the cuffs of his sweater, but he didn’t make a sound. These weren’t tears he was supposed to have. He wasn’t entitled to feel this loss when his friend… when Junmyeon was going through the actual break-up.  
Kyungsoo came around to his side of the table and drew up a chair, and Minseok felt Kyungsoo’s arms as he wrapped them loosely around his shoulders. Here, at least, was someone who knew the whole truth. Just this once, because he wouldn’t allow himself to do it again, Minseok let himself go and cried into his friend’s shoulder.


	8. Endings

Eight months hadn’t done anything to dull the intense sadness that Junmyeon felt when he saw [y/n] in the café where they had agreed to meet. She didn’t see him at first, and it gave him a chance to study her. She had lost weight, she had cut her hair, she looked bored. He wondered if their separation had changed him in her eyes at all.  
He approached the table and waved when she looked up.  
“Hi,” he said. It was awkward. How did they greet each other when they were married, or before then? He felt like he should give her a hug, but she clearly didn’t feel that way. She crossed her arms and he sat down.  
“You’re blonde.” That was the first thing she said. His hair was recently dyed for the promotions for the retrospective comeback the group were working on. She hadn’t known him the last time it was blonde, but she had seen pictures. He remembered that she hadn’t liked it, had asked him to not do it again if he could help it. He smiled bitterly.  
“I like it,” he said, and ordered a coffee from a passing server. “Were you waiting for a long time?”  
“No, just a few minutes.” She sipped her macchiato. He noticed that her hands were shaking slightly. Was she nervous?  
She looked good, he had to admit. The end of the summer had left a healthy glow on her skin, and it was offset well by her pale sundress. His eyes caught on a necklace he had never seen before.  
“That’s pretty,” he said, pointing. Her hand reached up and closed around the pendant, a delicate feather on a silver chain.  
“It was a present,” she said, but she didn’t elaborate. He supposed that it was none of his business now to know who gave her gifts, so he didn’t enquire any further. The server brought him his coffee and when they were alone again, Junmyeon set the envelope on the table between them.  
“Here are the forms,” he said. “The lawyers marked where to sign.”  
[y/n] fished a pen out of her bag and set to signing at the parts indicated by little yellow stickers. He didn’t know what to say to her, so he didn’t say anything. About halfway through, a tear dropped from her eyes onto the page and she wiped it away. Junmyeon felt his throat constrict. This was horrible. It was better that they were doing it in public because he was barely holding it together. He didn’t think he would have been able to get through this behind closed doors. He still loved her, after all. He wasn’t in love with her anymore, but that didn’t mean that he cared any less. Would it have ended like this, he wondered, if she had met Minseok instead of him? They had never talked about what he overheard that day, the day Chanyeol was in the apartment when he got home. She had cried that morning too, and so had he.  
He stood up and walked over to the concession area, collecting some napkins from the pile and placing them gently beside her, saving one for himself just in case. He looked away and studied the street, the café, the other customers, while her pen scratched out their marriage. The forms would be scanned and logged on a system somewhere and then destroyed, and then they wouldn’t be married anymore. The only testament to their five years together – four of them happy, at least – would be the plain silver ring that he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of. He noticed that she wasn’t wearing hers anymore either.  
When she was finished, [y/n] tucked the forms neatly back into the envelope and handed it to him. Her eyes were red, but she was holding it together. She looked defeated. He knew his own face must be mirroring her own.  
“What are you doing now? I don’t know if I can ask any of this… it’s so strange to be here with you and not talk to you,” he said, looking down at his now-cold and half-finished cup of coffee. [y/n] reached out and took his hand where it was resting on the table.  
“I want to be friends someday,” she said. “Not yet. But someday. Do you think we could?”  
He looked up at her, searching her face for any hint of insincerity. He didn’t see any. He nodded slowly. She started making a move to leave.  
“The number I called you on is my new number,” she said. “I cancelled my phone contract here.”  
Junmyeon looked down at his phone; it had confused him earlier, that number.  
“What country code is this?” he asked.  
“It’s the UK,” she said. “I got a job in London. I’m moving there.”  
London. The other side of the planet.  
“When?”  
[y/n] slung the strap of her handbag across her body and stood up. He stood up too.  
“My flight is this afternoon. That’s why I wanted to meet this morning.” Her voice caught when she said it, and Junmyeon didn’t care then that things were weird between them now. He opened his arms and she stepped into them and he held her for a couple of seconds.  
“You’ll be fine. You’re always fine,” he said, and kissed her temple before letting her go. There were tears in her eyes again but when she smiled at him, for the first time in a long time, it was genuine.  
When he got back to the studio, the members were lounging around while Jongin worked out some complex move for his dance break with the choreographer. Junmyeon handed out the coffees that he had brought with him for the members from the café and sat down next to Kyungsoo. Junmyeon didn’t miss Kyungsoo’s glance at Minseok, who was standing up and stretching by one of the mirrors, before he asked how everything went.  
“Done. It’s over,” said Junmyeon.  
“How is she?” Chanyeol asked loudly from the other side of the room, with all of the tact of a fireworks display as usual. It was natural that Chanyeol would be concerned. [y/n] had quit her job the day they separated, the day she had moved out of the apartment. Junmyeon was upset, even if he didn’t show it. He wished Chanyeol hadn’t asked, but he answered him anyway.  
“She’s fine, she got a job in London.”  
Kyungsoo started at that. “When is she going?” he asked. Junmyeon picked up his own coffee and took a long drink to steady himself. He wished they would stop asking about her.  
“She’s leaving now,” he said. “I walked her to the subway, she had a suitcase, so I think she’s gone to the airport already.”  
There was silence in the studio for a couple of seconds. Even Jongin and the choreographer had stopped talking and were standing awkwardly in a corner, clearly listening to what was happening. Then there was a scrambling noise and Junmyeon looked up to see Minseok disappear through the door.

She had about three hours until her flight left, but [y/n] still went to the airport early. She could take her time checking in and spend some time in duty free. After leaving Junmyeon, she couldn’t stand the thought of hanging around the city any longer. She was feeling trapped in Seoul, surrounded by constant reminders of the life she had and let slip away. Starting a new job had been easy; getting a new place had been easy; trying to begin a new life had been impossible. Everyone she knew was connected to Junmyeon somehow, either directly or as a result of her friends becoming his friends too when they were married. She hadn’t told anyone about the circumstances surrounding their breakup, or… or Minseok. She had tried to call him a few times, in the weeks after the separation, but he hadn’t answered. She knew why, she wasn’t stupid. Junmyeon was one of Minseok’s oldest and best friends, his bandmate and brother in everything but blood. No matter how he had felt, he wouldn’t have hurt Junmyeon by coming to her when she wanted him. She had known all this and called him anyway because she had felt so desperately alone in those first few weeks that she had just wanted to hear his voice. When he didn’t answer, she had understood, even though she was sad about it. Sad. She was more than that, but there was no helping it anyway.  
She dragged her suitcase through the airport’s main concourse. It was quiet, this early in the day. The only major traffic was coming out of Arrivals, and most of the people milling around were flying to Europe like she was. She checked her phone out of habit, but there were no notifications. No one had her number, anyway. The flight status hadn’t changed. She should just go through security and find somewhere to sit down.  
Check-in took longer than it should have. Three girls – college students on a trip to judge by their ages and the patches on their bags – were having some sort of argument in front of her in the line for the automated machines. When one of them started crying, they all did. [y/n] didn’t know what to do, but she felt that stepping around them might be a bit insensitive, so she waited until they stopped hugging each other and then politely cleared her throat. They moved aside when they saw her, and she gave them a sympathetic smile before completing her check-in and dropping her suitcase on the conveyer belt. That was it.  
She was only taking one suitcase to London with her. Everything substantial she owned – furniture, the kinds of clothes that needed garment bags and special hanging – had all been part of her old life with Junmyeon. What she needed now was all crammed into that one suitcase that was disappearing down the belt and through to security check. She supposed she should follow it through. She checked the overhead signs and started following them towards Security and the gates beyond.  
A shout made her slow her steps. Then another one. She stopped and turned. Was someone calling her name? She glanced about but couldn’t see where it was coming from.  
“[y/n]!”  
Yes, that was definitely her name. She whipped around and saw that, through the check-in area, past the crying girls, came Minseok. He had his hood up and a hat on and there was a mask covering the lower half of his face, but it was definitely him. Minseok had the most astonishing eyes [y/n] had ever seen, dark and long lashed and always looking like they were lined even when they weren’t. There was no mistaking him for anybody else. And she would know his voice anywhere. Her throat was dry. She had never seen anyone more beautiful than he was at that moment, even with half of his face covered. He was here; when she was leaving, he had finally come to her. She couldn’t believe he was here. She was happy and sad and angry all at once. Most of all, she was shocked that he was here. She stood rooted to the spot, watching him slow as he approached, hands nervously balled into the pockets of his grey hoodie.   
He looked like he might be about to lose his nerve, and she thought he was going to stop about ten paces from her and turn around again. She almost wished he would, to save her the pain of having to tell him to go. If he left on his own, she might be able to live with herself. She couldn’t move so she would have to watch the whole thing; she would have to watch him walk away from her again like he had that morning in the studio. Just like then, she wouldn’t have the strength to stop him, because walking away was what he should be doing. She knew that much now, at least.

He couldn’t believe that he found her already. All the way out here in that ridiculously expensive taxi that he had flagged down outside of the company building, he had been trying to think of ways to get in touch with her. He called her but her number was disconnected. He messaged her on every SNS account he knew she had, but no answer. He even called the airport, but they didn’t give out information about individual passengers, and the website could only tell him when the next plane to London was leaving.  
He didn’t even know what he was planning to say to her when he got there, only that he had to see her before she went. He was nearly at the airport by the time that it occurred to him that he could just fly to London. There was no need for a high-energy rush to the airport like some ridiculous film from the 90s. Still… he was desperate to see her.  
When Junmyeon had come in, his face tired already even though it was still early in the morning, Minseok had avoided his eyes, avoided asking about [y/n]. It had been months since their breakup, but Minseok couldn’t ignore the fact that Junmyeon was awkward around him. He didn’t know why, exactly. He assumed that [y/n] had said something in those final conversations that ended their marriage. Kyungsoo would tell him if there was anything he needed to know. So, he hadn’t asked. And he had kept his promise. When [y/n] had called him, he didn’t pick up. He deleted her voicemails if she left them and her messages without reading them. It hurt. But it had to be done, for her own sake and his. Now, eight months later, he was tired of the pain. She was leaving the country and he was suddenly terrified that he would lose her if he didn’t tell her now that he wanted her.  
He hastily covered his face with a mask and sprinted through the doors of the airport, quickly locating the check-in area for her airline. It wasn’t crowded. He saw her from a distance, walking slowly towards the security area, and couldn’t help himself. He shouted her name.  
Standing there in front of him, he forgot how to speak. It had been so long since he had seen her that he had forgotten how beautiful she was somehow. She looked more than that today, in a blue sundress that was wholly unsuitable for flying in but looked so good on her. He recognised it as the one she was wearing that time on the dock, on her birthday. And…she was wearing the necklace. Did that mean she still cared? It gave him confidence, anyway. He took a shaky breath and stepped forward and took her hand in both of his.  
“Don’t go,” he said. “I mean, no. You should go, but don’t leave me.” She frowned at him. This was coming out all wrong. He decided to start again. “Go to London but be with me. I’ll come to you and we can be together there, or you can come home and visit, and we can be together here. I’ll tell Junmyeon. But don’t be with anyone else. Just me.” He was speaking very fast. His throat was dry.  
[y/n] was still frowning. Then, looked like she was about to laugh.  
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I think that was really important, but I only heard some of it. Your voice is muffled and it’s loud in here.” Minseok gaped at her. He realised that she couldn’t see him gaping at her, then, and glanced around, dragging [y/n] into a recessed area where they could have some privacy. He pulled his mask down and took a deep breath.  
“I can’t stand that you’ll go to London and you might meet someone else. Can you just be with me? Go to London, but we’ll be together. We can make it work.” He was looking down at her hand, his thumbs rubbing her palm in small, nervous circles. She wasn’t answering him, and he looked up at her. There were tears in her lovely eyes.  
“Minseok, I can’t.”  
“Because of London, or because of Junmyeon? I can fly to London whenever you want. I can fly you home whenever you want. I can talk to Junmyeon, I’ll make him understand.” He knew he was babbling. He was starting to panic. He held her hand tighter.  
“It’s not the distance or Junmyeon, Minseok, it’s me. I’m so… done. With everything here. I can’t even think straight in Seoul, I have to go somewhere else. Be somewhere else, live a different life. For a while. I think-” her voice broke, and Minseok felt his throat close. “Minseok, I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time. But I don’t know how I can be with you when every time I see you right now, I feel guilty about Junmyeon.”  
Minseok was at a loss for words. She wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking down at her hand where he held it, and tears were falling from her face, half hidden by her hair. She looked as lost as he felt. What was he supposed to do? Was he supposed to fight her on this? Could he? He shook his head in answer to his own unspoken question. He could never force this woman to do anything. He had seen her cry enough times to know that the only thing he wanted to do for the rest of his life – the rest of her life – was make her smile. He had never been the cause of her tears before, and he wondered how Junmyeon had been able to stand it all those years. Junmyeon. Why was he thinking about him now?  
He reached out with one of his hands and brushed her hair back behind her ear, cupping her cheek and tilting her face up towards him. Her features blurred in his vision and he knew he was crying too.  
“Look at me,” he managed to say. “Just for a minute.”  
She did. There was nothing there that gave him much hope. But still, he had to tell her.  
“I love you. I’ve loved you almost as long as I’ve known you.”  
She nodded and even though she was crying she looked relieved, like she hadn’t even been sure of him until now. Like it could be possible that he didn’t love her back. Drawing her closer with the hand that held hers, he leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips.  
For years he had imagined what kissing her might be like. It was nothing like that. It was better and worse, awful for the fact that they were both crying but incredible that she was kissing him back. With his thumb, he brushed away fresh tears as they fell from her closed eyes and kept kissing her as long as she let him because he knew that when he stopped it would be over, and she would leave. She would leave Korea and leave him, and that would be it for who knew how long. Forever maybe, because there was no way around how confused she was feeling right now except to give her space to feel it. But she loved him. She said that she loved him. He had to trust that she would come back to him. He released her hand and looped his arm around her waist, drawing her against him as if he could make her stay by just holding her to him as tightly as possible.  
In the end, it was a grandmother passing by tutting loudly that made them break apart. Minseok had forgotten that he was in the middle of an airport. They smiled shyly at each other, but it was bittersweet. At least she had stopped crying.  
Minseok was still holding onto her. He didn’t want to let go. Then he remembered something.  
“Can you wait here, for just a few minutes? Please? I’ll be right back. I promise.” She nodded, frowning slightly but smiling at him at least. He took off at a sprint across the airport to the big souvenir shop near the security area, remembering to pull his mask on as he ran. He darted around the shop until he found what he was looking for and grabbed it.

It was still two hours until her flight. [y/n] eyed the line at security and decided that she didn’t care. If she had to scream at someone to get to her gate on time, she would, but she would wait until Minseok came back before she went anywhere. She was dazed. Her lips felt swollen even though she knew the kiss hadn’t lasted that long, but every single part of her body that he had touched was charged. His lips had been so soft, teasing hers open with suggestion and barely a hint of pressure, but his touch… he didn’t hesitate. She felt the phantom weight of his palm where it had pressed into the small of her back, the light touch of his fingertips on her jaw, his muscled abdomen against her own. It was enough to make her forget where she was. She couldn’t move much less think about making her way through the airport to her gate.  
Then, for the first time, she seriously considered not going. The thought of leaving him here was making her feel sick. What had she been thinking an hour ago - half an hour ago - twenty minutes ago - when she was so adamant that her leaving him was the best thing for them both? How did she get back to that? She touched her lips lightly and smiled. Then shook her head like it would clear him out of it. Nothing had done that since the day she met him, so she may as well not have bothered. She took a deep breath and tried to get her composure back.  
She saw him coming from across the concourse, sprinting so fast it was like he was running for a plane himself. She could see that he was smiling by the way his eyes turned up at the sides. If he kept looking at her like that, she wouldn’t go. Fuck what was right, she thought. Why couldn’t she just be happy?  
When he reached her he hugged her like they hadn’t seen each other in months, like she had wanted him to when he had first shown up at the airport.  
“Sorry, that took longer than I wanted,” he said. He had a paper bag which he set on the floor beside them. He dug around in it until he fished out a disposable camera. She didn’t even know they still made those. He pulled her into the alcove and took off his mask. He looked all around before he did it. He wasn’t famous any more the way they’d been ten years ago, but [y/n] had spent enough time around EXO to know that there was never a shortage of people who recognised them in Seoul. Minseok was certainly distinctive enough to be noticed for being handsome even if he wasn’t famous. When he was happy that they were in relative privacy, he took off his hood and his hat. His hair was glossy and black, long on the top and undercut at the sides. [y/n] couldn’t help but stare. He put his arm around her so she was standing next to him, still staring.  
“One, two, three,” he said, and then took a selfie, old-style with the lens turned their way, one hand holding the camera with his finger on the shutter button and the other arm flung around her shoulders and pulling her in so she had to wrap her arms around him. Her smile when he took the picture was involuntary, pure adrenaline from the novelty of getting to stand so close to him she could feel the softness of his hoodie on the skin of her cheek.  
“Another one,” he said, winding back the film. It was adorable that he remembered how to do this, like disposable cameras had even been a thing in the last twenty years. “One, two, three.” He took two more and then handed her the camera. He put his hat back on and drew up his hood and crouched down to look in the bag again.  
While he was looking, [y/n] took a picture of him.  
“Sorry,” she said when he glanced up in surprise. “You’re so cute.” He blushed and smiled shyly. Then he drew a stuffed cat out of the bag and held it out to her.  
It was big and soft and black and round, with huge yellow eyes and a tiny velveteen-covered black nose. A stubby tail marked off the back, but it didn’t really have limbs. It was more like a pillow with cat ears. [y/n] could see herself lying on it when she was watching TV or wrapping her arms around it at night.  
“What’s this for?” she asked him. Minseok took the plushie and made a face at the face of the cat. He grinned at it. [y/n] took another picture, forgetting for a second that she was confused. Why was he giving her a stuffed cat?  
Minsook rubbed the cat’s head like it was real and then packed it carefully back into the bag. He picked it up and held out the shoulder straps, threading her arm through them until the bag was tucked under her arm. Then he wrapped his own arms around her shoulders, so they were face to face again.  
“Kyungsoo told me to get a cat, if I felt lonely. So here, it’s a cat. If you get lonely in London, you have a cat.”  
[y/n] stared at him for a couple of seconds, speechless. When he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her forehead before drawing her into a tight bear hug, she felt like she was in shock. He was telling her to go. He wasn’t asking her to stay. She felt panicked, suddenly, and tears were starting to pool in her eyes.  
“You were right. You have to go. This is the best thing. I hate it but it’s… it’s the right thing.”  
“Minseok, I can’t ask you to wait,” she said into his shoulder.  
“I know,” he said, his voice a little ragged in her ear. “I won’t. Just promise me you’ll tell me, when you’re ready? If you ever are ready, that is. Don’t… don’t wait for me either.”  
He held her tightly for another little bit. Then he sighed and when he drew back from her, she saw that he was crying again.  
“You should go,” he said.  
She didn’t know how she did it, but she nodded. She kissed him one last time. And then, she left.


	9. Beginnings

The first few months in London were difficult. The winter was cold like Seoul, but the rain was constant. Her job was new, and it was hard to get used to working for a big company again after working for Chanyeol for so long. She missed the autonomy she had, and she missed working with him. He was a passionate but undemanding boss and was always open to ideas and collaboration. The artists she worked with now were less interested in what she had to say, especially when she spoke in her accented English. That was the worst thing. The best thing was her pay, which she found was more than substantial enough to live comfortably. [y/n] found an apartment. It was a studio with a separate bathroom, and it was the first place that [y/n] had ever lived in that was entirely hers. She bought an expensive but comfortable couch and negotiated with the landlord about painting it the way she wanted. She made some friends through work, but she spent most of her free time at home, watching movies and working on improving her English. She took up learning Mandarin Chinese again, something that had fallen by the wayside when she married Junmyeon for some reason. When she wasn’t at home, she was throwing herself into work. It was never enough to distract her from her homesickness or missing Minseok, but it kept her busy. By the time summer had come to London, she was thinking about Seoul less and less.  
[y/n] hadn’t heard much from anyone in her old life apart from a few friends from her university days who already lived in London. When her screen lit up one Saturday morning with a call from a Korean number she recognised, she hesitated but she answered anyway.  
She tidied away anything that was lying around and did a quick run to the shop. By the time her doorbell buzzed, and she pressed the button to open the outer door, she was ready for Junmyeon.  
He greeted her awkwardly and she waved him inside. After standing together inside the door for a few seconds, he leaned in and kissed her cheek.  
“Hi,” he said.  
“Hi.” [y/n] didn’t know what else to say, so she led him into the room and pointed towards the couch. He took the direction and sat down, watching her as she busied herself making coffee.  
“How long are you in London for?” she asked.  
“Just a couple of days,” he said. “We’re doing a photoshoot at some mansion somewhere, and there was time in the schedule, so I wanted to call and see how you were.”  
[y/n] started at ‘we’ but didn’t ask who he meant. She had studiously avoided any news of EXO since leaving Korea, so she had no idea where they were in their comeback and promotions schedule right now. Was Minseok in London? If he was, she knew why he hadn’t called. She had told him she would call him, when she was ready. Was she ready? She had been asking herself that for a couple of months now, and thought she finally had an answer.   
Junmyeon was still talking.  
“I haven’t been in the UK in over a year,” he was saying. “Does it always rain this much?”  
“Yes,” she said, carrying out two cups and setting one down in front of him. She deliberated for a second on where to sit and decided to just sit on the couch with him. They had been married for years; it would be awkward to put unnecessary space between them.  
“How is it? Living here?” he asked. [y/n] shrugged.  
“I work a lot. I don’t really notice the city much.”  
“Is work… are you- how are you?” he seemed nervous. [y/n] smiled at him in what she hoped was a reassuring way. She was nervous too. They had barely seen each other in a year and half, since that morning after Minseok’s party when they decided to break up. Being around him after all this time was an unsettling mixture of familiarity and sadness. It was like being in an apartment you used to live in but someone else was living there now. He seemed to feel it too. He picked up a cushion from the couch and played with it. It took [y/n] a second to realise that it was the stuffed cat that Minseok had given her at the airport. She desperately wanted to ask about Minseok. He was all she could think about since Junmyeon had called. She wanted him to put down the cat.  
“I’m fine,” she said, eyeing the way he held it, like it was just a stuffed animal and not everything to her. Junmyeon put it down before she had to ask him to. “How are you?”  
“Fine,” he said. “I… I started dating someone. I wanted to tell you, in case it went public and you heard about it.”  
[y/n] raised her eyebrows in surprise and waited to feel… something. Jealousy or possessiveness or anything at all towards this new woman who Junmyeon was smiling his brilliant smiles at now. When it didn’t come, she almost breathed a sigh of relief. She felt nothing towards him now, she realised, but affection. She had felt more territorial about the stuffed cat than she did thinking of Junmyeon with someone else. He would always be special to her, but there was no vestige of her former feelings lying in ambush. She smiled at him.  
“That’s good,” she said. “I’m glad to hear that.”  
He nodded and it seemed like he had been holding his breath because he grinned.  
“Yeah, I’m… she’s great.” He looked genuinely happy, and that made [y/n] glad she couldn’t be jealous. She wouldn’t want him to not smile like he was right now. “What about you?”  
[y/n] glanced at the cat. There hadn’t been anyone since Junmyeon. One of the art department people at work had asked her out a couple of months after she arrived, and when she said no, nobody else had asked her. When one of the associate producers asked her if she went back to Seoul a lot, he made it sound like everyone at work assumed she had a boyfriend there. She never bothered correcting them. She didn’t socialise with anyone else.  
“No, I’m not seeing anyone,” she said, truthfully. Junmyeon had been watching her closely, and her loneliness must have shown on her face because he looked for a second like he was about to reach out and take her hand but stopped himself. She was glad he did. The last thing she wanted was pity. Then, he sighed like he was disappointed. Like he wanted her to be happy so that he could be happy without guilt. She changed the subject and asked about his schedule, and they talked for another half hour before he said he had to go. He was meeting someone, and he didn’t tell her who. As he stood up to leave, his eye caught on something on the dresser she kept near the door. She followed his gaze and saw that it was the selfie of the two of them that Minseok had taken at the airport the day she left.  
It had taken her months of carrying that disposable camera around, occasionally snapping photographs of pretty scenes or buildings, to run down the film until it was finally finished. There was a place near her work that developed film cameras, and she brought it there when she was ready to see Minseok’s face again. Two of the four pictures he had taken were blurry, and in one of them she had her eyes closed. One of them was perfect, though. Minseok was grinning at the camera, his eyes only a little red from where he’d been crying. [y/n] was looking at his face rather than the camera. She was looking at him like he was the whole world to her. When she had first seen the picture, the breath had been knocked out of her. Here it was, the clearest indication she could find that she loved him. She wasn’t ready, and she buried the picture between the pages of a book she was reading. Then, one night about a month ago, she woke up and took out that picture. She wanted to call him. The more she looked at him, the more she looked at herself, the more sure she was that she couldn’t take not seeing him anymore. But what about him? What if she called him and he had moved on? What if she called him and he didn’t answer? She couldn’t work up the nerve to do it. The thought of him not wanting her was sickening. She had been trying to talk herself around. She bought a simple frame for the picture, a thin strip of brushed copper that ran around the edge and brought out the inky black of his hair that morning. It was the only photograph in the apartment.   
Junmyeon walked over to the dresser and picked it up. He looked at it for a long minute, and [y/n] didn’t know what to say.   
She waited for him to put down the picture, and eventually he did. She walked him to the door, and he put on his shoes. He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the cheek.  
“Maybe… we can be friends?” he said to her, his voice shaking a little. [y/n] smiled, pleased and relieved.  
“Yes. I’d like that, if we can.”  
Junmyeon nodded, and opened the door, turning again before he walked through it.  
“The shoot is finished on Monday. Can I buy you dinner? Or a drink?”  
[y/n] thought about this. It was a weeknight, so there was no danger of her staying out late and doing something stupid like crying in front of him. He looked so earnest that she nodded before she had fully made up her mind, though. He gave her a small wave, and then he left.

Kyungsoo looked up at the house. It was too much; too big, too expensive, too many windows. He couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to live in a place like this. Tourists had been coming and going beyond the hedge that separated the private garden from the carpark, and he caught occasional glimpses of them through the big windows, filtering into the hallway beyond the immediate rooms that overlooked where the photoshoot was going on around the fountain.  
Sehun and Chanyeol were doing their unit shoot now, and he wouldn’t be needed for an hour at least. He considered walking around the house again, looking at the bad art and gaudy furniture and wondering who would ever choose a life like that. Or he could go for a walk. There were fields and woods beyond the garden, countryside that he found far more appealing than the excessive splendour of the stately home. When he checked his phone, though, he saw that he had no signal. If he was needed, no one would be able to reach him. He sighed, and thought about trying to fall asleep right here, on the low wall.  
Junmyeon wandered over.  
“Have you eaten yet?” he asked, nodding towards the gazebo where the food was set out in warmers and under nets. It was still early in the day, but everything was already looking stale and like it had been left out too long.  
“Yes.”  
“It’s not good is it?”  
“No.” Kyungsoo gave Junmyeon a tired smile. “When are we finished? I want to eat something good.”   
Junmyeon checked his watch. It was one of the ones for the photoshoot, a gaudy Breitling that didn’t match Junmyeon’s personal style at all. It went with the Tom Ford suit and the whole old-world styling of this shoot, though. And it told the time.  
“The shoot should be finished by five.”  
“Ah, I’m so bored,” Kyungsoo muttered.   
“I’m finished, so I’m going back into the city with the others once I’ve changed.”  
Kyungsoo tried not to look disappointed. If Junmyeon was leaving, it meant that his unit shoot would be last, and they would be left here alone. He could probably convince Chanyeol to hang around and wait for them, just to keep things interesting.  
“Will we meet later?” Kyungsoo asked. “It’s the last night. We should eat something good and get drunk together. We haven’t been all here in a long time.” Junmyeon looked uncomfortable. He glanced around and rubbed his forehead. “What?”  
“I told [y/n] I would meet her tonight. I shouldn’t have. It was strange seeing her,” Junmyeon said, sounding impatient with himself. Kyungsoo had covered for him with the others when he went to see [y/n] on Saturday.  
No one had mentioned her since they arrived. Minseok had become a bit withdrawn the longer they were here, but that was the only indication that he was bothered by being in her proximity. He knew she hadn’t called him. He wished Minseok would just call her, if it made him less earnest. He was surprised that Chanyeol hadn’t made some plans to see her since he had been hard pressed to shut up about missing her at the studio since she left. Kyungsoo remembered that night in the club, but he never brought it up with Chanyeol. Whatever he had been feeling, he had worked through it in the year since. When he mentioned [y/n] now it was with the same sadness that he talked about friends from the army he didn’t get to see anymore. Like she was someone who had meant a lot to him once, but he remembered fondly enough to think about but didn’t need to see.  
But even Chanyeol had tact enough not to mention her around Junmyeon, since Junmyeon hadn’t talked about her at all since the divorce was finalised. At least, he hadn’t talked about her to anyone but Kyungsoo.  
Why do they always come to me? He thought to himself. Sometimes he felt like people thought that because he was quiet, he was a good listener. He knew that wasn’t the reason, deep down. He knew they came to him because he cared, and he didn’t judge, and because all he ever wanted was for everyone to get along. He would have been happier to have been blissfully unaware of everything that had happened with [y/n], though. He involuntarily glanced across at Minseok, who had already changed into his street clothes and was joking quietly with Jongdae. Junmyeon was looking at them too.  
“Can I tell you something?” he said quietly.  
“You will anyway,” said Kyungsoo, but smiled to take the sting out of his words. “What is it?”  
Junmyeon looked up at the house and seemed to be choosing his words carefully.  
“Do you remember what I told you that morning? After… the morning [y/n]… when we broke up? Do you remember what I told you I heard?”  
Kyungsoo did remember, all too clearly.  
He remembered Junmyeon calling him and asking him to come over. He remembered Junmyeon in shock, pacing the room or sitting down suddenly, and clearly at a loss for what to do with himself. Junmyeon had told him what he had walked in on. How he had overheard Chanyeol – the idiot – confronting [y/n] about her feelings for Minseok and how Junmyeon had heard the whole thing because he was still a bit drunk and his laces had been knotted so it took him extra-long to take his shoes off. He remembered Junmyeon asking him if it was true, and he remembered that he didn’t lie about that. He had told Junmyeon that he didn’t know how [y/n] felt, but he was certain about Minseok.   
“Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon had asked him baldly, his voice hoarse from crying, “what do I do? He’s my friend. I don’t know what to do.” Kyungsoo had put his arms around Junmyeon and told him he would figure something out, that he would talk to Minseok. Even now, he cursed himself for getting involved in the situation like that, like it was any of his business. He loved his friends, though, and he couldn’t bear to see them torn apart.  
He remembered what happened after, too. He remembered sitting on that chair in Minseok’s living room watching helplessly as his distraught friend cried more tears in half an hour than he had in fifteen years. He remembered hating [y/n] for doing that to him. He hadn’t seen her since, and didn’t think he had entirely forgiven her, even after Minseok came back from the airport the day she left in a kind of daze of resignation. He had never told Junmyeon any of what had happened with Minseok, and Junmyeon had never asked. If their friendship afterwards was lukewarm for a little while, it was on both of their parts. The open wound eventually healed, and they were close again. Not like they had been, but still.  
“Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon said, glancing around again at the shoot going on behind them, at the house, and his feet, before fixing his eyes on Minseok. “She isn’t seeing anyone. She’s single. Is that true?”  
Kyungsoo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.  
“I don’t know,” he said. “How would I know?” Junmyeon gave him a pleading look and nodded towards Minseok. Kyungsoo realised what he was asking. “They haven’t spoken since she left. As far as I know. But I don’t think they have. He might have told me.” Kyungsoo couldn’t deny that, and Junmyeon wouldn’t be able to argue with him; everyone came to Kyungsoo with news. Junmyeon nodded slowly and rubbed his forehead again.  
“Then… then I should tell him that she’s got a picture of him, of the two of them, right? In her apartment. She isn’t the type of person who keeps photographs like that, especially ones she’s in too. She fought me on that one picture we had of us in our apartment.” He sighed sadly, with the resignation that always accompanied any reference to his marriage. “Anyway, she wouldn’t keep a photograph of him if she didn’t… if she wasn’t in love with him.”  
Kyungsoo was stunned. Was Junmyeon saying that he was okay with Minseok and [y/n]? Would he really be fine with it, if he saw them together? He wouldn’t have to see them immediately, if she stayed in London for a while, and by the time she came back to Korea he might be married again anyway… Kyungsoo put his hand on Junmyeon’s shoulder.  
“Are you going to tell him?” he asked plainly.  
“Do you think I should?”  
“Yes,” said Kyungsoo without hesitation. “Tell him. Tell him today.”

Minseok looked out the window as they drove into the city, watching the view change from countryside, to houses, to city. He examined every person who passed when the car slowed at a junction, wondering if there was even a small chance that [y/n] might walk by. That he could see her for just a second. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would be something. He played with his phone, turning it over and over in his hands, and thought about trying to contact her. He didn’t have her number here, but she had online accounts, an Insta that hadn’t been updated in two years and other accounts that he checked more often than he was willing to admit even to himself. Did she know he was here? Fan sites had logged their schedules in London, but would [y/n] check those? He glanced across at Junmyeon, whose eyes were closed, seemingly asleep. He wondered if Junmyeon was still in touch with her. He wondered how he felt about that. In the weeks after they said goodbye at the airport, Minseok had found himself looking at Junmyeon with something approaching jealousy. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but think sometimes that Junmyeon had kissed [y/n], that he’d held her waist and touched her hair and been close to her, even though it was all over now. He felt a level of protectiveness over her that was entirely inappropriate for someone who wasn’t even her boyfriend. In that sense, it was a good thing that she wasn’t there. She was right that Junmyeon would have been an unspoken presence between them for a while if they had decided to be together. The feelings of envy hadn’t lasted long, had faded gradually over time, but if he could change anything about the past it would be to make sure Junmyeon had never even dated [y/n]. Junmyeon’s eyes opened and met Minseok’s. Minseok looked away, hoping (like he did frequently when he thought about [y/n]) that his emotions weren’t showing on his face.   
When they arrived at the hotel, Jongin and Yixing got out first, talking animatedly about their plans for the afternoon. Junmyeon called after them, reminding them about what he had suggested back at the big house, before they all split up. He had suggested that they all meet at some restaurant in the city later this evening for a meal. Jongin waved in acknowledgement and followed Yixing into the hotel. Minseok made to follow them, but Junmyeon held him back.  
“Wait a minute,” he said. “Can we talk? I know it’s early, but can we get a drink?”   
Minseok had been planning to go down to the gym for an hour or so, but it had been so long since Junmyeon had suggested they hang out together, just the two of them.  
“Sure,” he said. “In the hotel?”   
“No, let’s go to a real bar. There’s one around the corner.”  
Around the corner turned out to be three streets away and down an alleyway, but Minseok was happy to be lead. Junmyeon told him as they walked that he had found this place a couple of years ago, when they were in London for promotions. When they arrived, it was only half full and Minseok could see why Junmyeon liked it. It was just his style, cosy with armchairs and scuffed tables, walls lined with dark wood. It looked like an English Pub is supposed to, without that unwelcoming feeling that Minseok got when somewhere was a bit too local. There were some universities in the area, and a few of the clientele were speaking languages that Minseok didn’t recognise but they definitely weren’t speaking in English. It was just after lunch and a few people were eating. The food looked good. Junmyeon directed him to an armchair in the corner and went to the bar himself, coming back with two pints of beer the colour of honey.   
“Thanks,” Minseok said, taking his pint. He downed half the glass straight off; Junmyeon tried to keep up but he never could. Minseok grinned at him and Junmyeon rolled his eyes.   
“Yeah, you can drink more than me. What about it? I’m still the leader,” he said, tutting. Minseok laughed. Junmyeon talked for a few minutes about their upcoming schedules and what the other members were doing. He said that it had been Kyungsoo’s idea that they all have dinner tonight. Minseok wasn’t surprised. Kyungsoo loved being around the rest of the group, even if he rarely got a word in when everyone was shouting over each other. A platter of food arrived and Junmyeon thanked the server.   
“Good idea,” said Minseok. “The food out there was terrible.” Junmyeon agreed.   
Minseok finished his beer and went to get more. When he got back, Junmyeon was staring out the window, pensive. Minseok considered for a second if Junmyeon might be easier to talk to about [y/n] after a few beers, but dismissed that thought. It wouldn’t be fair of him to use his higher alcohol tolerance to take advantage like that. As it turned out, he didn’t need to. Junmyeon brought her up first.  
“I went to see [y/n] on Saturday,” he said. Minseok had just taken a gulp of his beer and nearly spat it out. He took a breath and swallowed, but didn’t say anything. Junmyeon went on.   
“She’s fine. She seems healthy and she said her job was going well.” Junmyeon played with the condensation on the outside of his glass, then took a deep draft. He seemed to be gearing up for something.   
“What is it?” Minseok asked, when Junmyeon didn’t go on. He felt himself go cold all over. Was she seeing someone? It wasn’t that he had made a conscious decision to wait for her, exactly, but he had never met anyone before or since who he cared about like her. If she was with someone else, he would have to accept that he had lost her. It wasn’t until the idea was staring him in the face that he realised that he had simply expected that she would get in touch eventually. He never doubted for a second that she loved him back. Well… he never doubted it until now. Junmyeon didn’t seem to have any idea what his silence was doing to Minseok because he took his time before he spoke again.   
“I told her I’d meet her for dinner tonight,” he said eventually.   
Minseok frowned.   
“But you’re… I thought we were having dinner tonight, all of us.”   
“Yeah, we are. So I should do that.”   
Minseok didn’t say anything for a minute. What was going on? Junmyeon seemed to be expecting him to speak. Then, he realised what was being implied here. His heart started to beat very fast.   
“Someone should go tell [y/n] you’re not coming…” said Minseok slowly, watching Junmyeon carefully. Junmyeon nodded and gave him a small smile.   
“I know I always have to ask you to do these things,” said Junmyeon. “Do you mind?”   
“No,” said Minseok quickly, and Junmyeon raised his eyebrows. Minseok cleared his throat and looked away, out the window. “I don’t mind.” He took a sip of his beer. He felt his face get hot, a combination of beer drunk very fast and, he was mortified to realise, because he could feel his eyes filling. He blinked rapidly and drank more beer to clear his throat again.   
They were silent for a minute or so. Finally, Minseok looked up to find Junmyeon studying him, a strange smile of genuine encouragement and affection there. There was sadness too, but he didn’t think that was for him.  
Minseok took a deep breath.  
“I don’t mind, Junmyeon. But… do you?”   
“No. Not at all.” 

It was threatening rain when [y/n] was getting ready to leave the house, but it was warm at least. She took a chance and wore her linen sundress and a pair of sandals, grabbing an umbrella just in case. By the time she climbed the steps at Covent Garden station and emerged into the early-evening bustle of the centre of the city, the sky had cleared, and a golden evening light illuminated the square in front of the covered market. [y/n] took a minute to appreciate the scene, emptier on a Monday evening than it was on the weekends but still busy with tourists and office workers finishing up their Happy Hours. She checked her phone for the text Junmyeon had sent. He hadn’t specified a restaurant, just told her to meet him in front of the market, on the side facing the church. She was still a few minutes early, and paced around in front of the columns, waiting.  
He was right on time. She saw him coming across the square, dressed up, in a fitted shirt not anything like she had seen him wear before outside of a photoshoot. He was wearing linen too. He matched her. Like they were going on a date. He broke into a run when he saw her and stopped a few feet away, like he had that day at the airport.  
“Hi,” said Minseok. He seemed to be trying to think of something else to say. “Hi,” he said again.  
[y/n] stared at him. And stared at him. She couldn’t look at him enough. Her eyes stung from not blinking.  
“You… you changed your hair,” she said. He had. It was blonde. A straw-colour she had never seen him with as long as she had known him in person. He swept it back from his forehead, nervously, and it stayed swept back. It was too much for her. [y/n] closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his waist.  
He wrapped himself around her, stroking her hair.  
“Hi,” he said, for the third time, and she laughed and looked up at him. He was beaming at her. She had never seen anything more beautiful than him.  
He kissed her forehead and both of her cheeks and her chin and nose and the top of her head, and she giggled. Then he kissed her properly and she forgot everything else. It was a soft, earnest kiss that lasted a while, full of the relief and happiness that had shown on his face when he saw her in the square, when he had started running. She could feel him smiling against her lips.  
“I missed you,” he said, leaning back to look at her face. She felt so loved in that moment. She remembered the picture in her apartment and thought that he was looking at her the way she had looked at him then. Like she was the answer to every question he had. She hugged him tightly again. She wasn’t letting go this time. She couldn’t believe that he was here, actually here, right in front of her. But… why was he here? There was only one person who could have told him that she would be here. Had he? Had he told Minseok to meet her? What did that mean?  
“Did Junmyeon tell you I was here?” she asked him. Her voice was muffled by his shirt, but he did nothing to prise her off of him. He just swung her gently from side to site, combing one of his hands through her hair.  
“Yes,” he said. “He told me to come and tell you he wasn’t coming.” [y/n] looked up into his face to see if he was serious. He raised his eyebrows at her and grinned.  
“Did he really say that? He told you to meet me?”  
“He said that I should come here. He said…” Minseok reached down and gently lifted her feather necklace – the necklace he had given her – from where it rested between her collarbones. “He said you probably wanted to see me. Was he right?”  
His voice dropped at the end of the question. There was just a hint of uncertainty there, and [y/n] loved him for it. How could he still be unsure of her? But that was Minseok, who always let her lead; who wanted her to be comfortable above anything else; who just wanted her to be happy and was willing to do anything to make it happen. She realised what she had been missing all of these months. She had been homesick. And here he was: home.   
“He was right,” she said. He looked so relieved that she couldn’t help but laugh.  
“Are you… are you happy, here?” he asked, glancing about the square. She didn’t know if he was talking about the city or the UK or just the covered market as a reasonable venue for dinner.  
“No.”  
He looked at her sharply. She leaned up and kissed his cheek.  
“I want to go home, Minseok. Back to Seoul, with you.”  
“Really?”  
“Really.”


	10. Epilogue, for Christmas

Even through the bustle of seasonal crowds pouring into the Arrivals area at the airport, even with a mask and a hood pulled up, and even in the most innocuous of dark-blue hoodies, [y/n] still spotted Minseok straight away. He didn’t seem to see her at first, and was checking and rechecking the arrivals screens, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. She dragged her oversized suitcase beside her with one hand, the other arm hugging the stuffed cat he had bought her at the airport before she left.  
When he saw her, he ran over and threw his arms around her shoulders.  
“I thought your plane was late, I couldn’t see you,” he said, and kissed her forehead before letting her go and taking the suitcase.  
“You brought Mini-seok!” he said excitedly, pointing at the stuffed cat. [y/n] tried to hide her cringe when he said the name. He had named the thing himself the last time he was in London.  
“I was afraid you wouldn’t let me move in if I didn’t have him with me,” she said, taking his hand with her free one and letting him guide her towards the parking structure. She was quietly nervous about going home with Minseok this time. She had been back to Korea a few times since the summer, but this time she was coming home. [y/n] had quit her job and worked her notice, and when she had told him she was looking for apartments in Seoul, he had just texted her his apartment code and told her there was a wardrobe already free for her at his place and if she wanted it she could stop looking for somewhere else to live. He followed this text with a phone call, asking her if she wanted to live with him. She did.   
Minseok held her hand all the way back into Seoul, only letting go to change gears or indicate, like he was making sure she was actually there, solid and real. He didn’t say much, but he was clearly excited about getting home. When they arrived at the apartment, after he had insisted that she key in the door code herself, she realised why.  
Minseok had gone all-in on Christmas decoration.  
The apartment was covered in silver stars and snowflake decorations, and he had brought in a real tree and covered it meticulously with lights. She had no doubt that he had done this himself because the lights were all evenly spaced. There were little LED lights on wires suspended from the ceiling, and when he flipped a switch, they lit up white like icicles. The area around the tree that wasn’t littered with wrapped presents was clear of any stray needles. She walked into the centre of the living room and turned around and around, taking in the amount of effort he had put in. Minseok wheeled her suitcase into his bedroom – their bedroom, she realised – and then came back to stand next to her, waiting for her to say something.  
“It’s… Christmas,” she said, lamely, after looking around with her mouth hanging open.  
“Is it okay? I know they do all of this in London, I didn’t want you to miss out. I like this stuff, you know, because of my power.” He chuckled to himself and looked at the ground. [y/n] nearly cried, he was so cute.  
“It’s beautiful,” she said, and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. He lightly touched the place she had kissed him and smiled shyly. He still treated every kiss like it was their first one.  
The doorbell chimed and Minseok looked mildly panicked for a second.  
“He’s early,” he said, checking his watch.  
“Who?”  
“Just… um, do you want to take a shower or lie down after your flight?”  
[y/n] raised her eyebrows. “Do I smell? Do I look like I need sleep?”  
The colour drained from Minseok’s face. “No! I just- if you want to-”  
[y/n] grinned at him. “I do want to take a shower,” she said. “And maybe sleep for a little while.” She squeezed his arm. “Go answer the door.”  
She started towards the bathroom.  
“You can use the shower in the bedroom if you like,” Minseok called after her. “I mean, your bedroom.” She turned around to see him squeeze his eyes shut, like he was having a word with himself.  
[y/n] laughed and let herself into the bedroom, hearing him open the front door and greet whoever it was. She showered and wrung out her hair, and by the time she had dried it and had fished a pair of pyjamas from her suitcase, she heard the doorbell ring again. Minseok answered it, more low voices, and then Minseok knocked softly on the door.  
“Are you going to sleep for a while?” he asked. A sound like a spoon clattering on the work surface sounded behind him.  
“Who’s here?” she asked warily.  
“It’s Kyungsoo, he dropped over some food,” Minseok explained. He gestured towards his – their – bed. “Get some sleep. I’ll call you in a few hours?”  
[y/n] nodded. Minseok caught her arm gently as she turned away. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly. “I’m so happy you’re home,” he said, and then he let himself out.  
True to his word, Minseok shook [y/n] awake just over three hours later. It was already getting dark outside.  
“You don’t have to get dressed or anything,” he said, when she sat up groggily. “Just come out and have some food. It’s Christmas Eve. I have something for you.”  
[y/n] blinked at him. He had something for her? She had picked up a small present for him before she left London, a plush mascot of an English football team he had taken her to watch. She hadn’t even realised football teams made things like that and had bought him the biggest one she could find. It was taking up considerable space in her suitcase. But she hadn’t had time to wrap it or anything. She found some socks and threw on a hoodie over her pyjamas, and hastily ‘wrapped’ the plushie in the paper bag she had been toting Mini-seok around in before getting on the plane, and then joined him in the living room.  
The main lights were off, but all of the tree lights and icicle lights were on, making the room feel Christmassy, like she was in a forest or something. [y/n] couldn’t help but smile as she looked around the room. She left the bag by the tree and found Minseok in the kitchen, stirring a delicious-smelling pot.  
“Kyungsoo cooked?”  
“Yeah, he thought you might want some good Korean food after all of that time in the UK,” Minseok said. [y/n] felt a rush of affection towards Kyungsoo who she had never really got to know. She knew that Junmyeon and Chanyeol had always talked to Kyungsoo when they were worried about something, and she knew Minseok was close enough with him that he had told him about his feelings for her back when the situation was impossible. How things have changed, she thought, looking around the kitchen.  
“Can I help?”  
“No, I can do it, go and relax,” Minseok said, shooing her gently out of the kitchen. She sat on the couch while he carried dishes out and set them on the table.  
A sudden movement from the corner, from under the tree, made her jump. One of the boxes moved. [y/n] felt a flash on panic; there couldn’t be a rat or something up here, could there? She drew both of her feet up onto the couch quickly.  
“Minseok!” she called. He walked out of the kitchen hurriedly, setting the last dish – a bowl of rice – on the table.  
“What is it?” he asked, rushing over to her. She pointed to the corner. The box moved again.  
“Ah,” he said, uncomfortable. “I thought she might… okay, well now is fine.”  
“What is it?!” [y/n] exclaimed. What was wrong with him? Why wasn’t he more alarmed?  
Minseok went over to the tree and picked up the box, walking it back to the couch and setting it between them. Up close, [y/n] could see that it had holes in it. And through those holes, just visible in the half-light, two giant yellow eyes blinked up at her.  
“I think she’s hungry again,” said Minseok. “This, um… this is your Christmas present.” He lifted the lid off of the box, and inside a tiny, black kitten crouched low on a soft blanket, eyeing them both with suspicion. Minseok reached in and gently lifted her out, cradling her to his chest. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” The kitten hid her face in his hoodie. “Manager brought her over just before you got into the shower. I wanted her to settle in before you met her.”  
[y/n] stared. He had got her a cat?  
“Are you leaving?” she asked suddenly. Minseok glanced up at her.  
“What?”  
“You got me a cat… and you told me cats were for loneliness. Is this your way of telling me you’re going away?” She felt her heart start to beat fast. She had just moved in… and he was leaving already? Minseok, to her surprise, laughed. The kitten jumped and squirmed and he had to calm it again. He handed over the kitten and [y/n] took it, holding it up and looking at it. It was adorable, all long black hair and huge ears. She held it to her and stroked it and it started to purr loudly.  
“She likes you,” said Minseok, moving closer to sit next to her, eyes on the kitten. “I can relate.” He put his arm around [y/n] and kissed her temple.  
“You didn’t answer me,” [y/n] said tremulously. She focused on the cat because she was afraid that if she looked at him and he said he was leaving for a few months, she might cry. They had spent so long apart already.  
“I’m not going anywhere, at least not right now,” he said, squeezing her shoulder. He reached out and ran his hand through the kitten’s fur. “I wanted us to start new. You’re moving in here to my apartment, so I wanted you to feel like something here is yours, or ours, until this place feels like home to you.”  
[y/n] looked up at him in surprise. It was so thoughtful, so sweet, she didn’t know what to say. So, she didn’t say anything, and just tilted her head up so he knew he should kiss her. He did. The kitten yowled.  
“Okay, okay,” she said to the cat. “What have you named her?” she asked Minseok. He just shrugged.  
“We can decide that together,” he said. He leaned down so he was eye-level with the cat, who eyed him, bemused. “What are you called, little cat?”  
He sat up suddenly. “Ah,” he said. “There was something else. I was trying to involve the kitten, but she wasn’t happy so… um-”  
He stood up. [y/n] stayed seated; the cat seemed to have fallen asleep.  
“Is it another present?” she asked him.  
“Sort of,” he said. “Can I?” he reached out and she handed over the sleeping cat, and he placed her gently back into her blanket.  
Then, he knelt down, and pulled out a small, velvet covered box from the pocket of his hoodie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas 2020! It's been a bit of a year. I hope this story has been some distraction.


End file.
